When It Don't Come Easy
by purplepagoda
Summary: Olivia becomes the one thing she never wanted to be. She goes to sleep a detective. When she wakes up, she's a victim. Will she ever be the same? Will this tragedy be enough to bring Elliot back to SVU? Only time will tell.
1. Waking Up To A Nightmare

Fin walks into the squad room. He looks around, the room. He finds that Olivia's desk is empty. Captain Cragen comes out of his office.

"Hey, Captain, where is Olivia?"

"She called in sick again, she has the flu," Don reminds him.

"This is the third day in a row," he points out.

Rollins chimes in, "Why are you suspicious of that?"

Munch answers, for him, "Olivia has the immune system of a robot. I have only known her to be sick, one time, in all of the years that I've worked with her."

Fin nods, "Back in two thousand and four. It was a really bad year for all of us. We just kept catching what the other one had, and passing it back, and fourth. Olivia finally got it, and when she did, she got it the worst."

"Because she wouldn't go to the doctor," John points out.

"Even Munch went to the doctor."

"Must have been pretty bad then," Amaro comments.

"But, even then, with pneumonia, Liv only missed two days of work," Fin explains.

"Yeah," Munch nods.

"Hey, Captain, do you mind if I go over to her apartment, and just check to make sure that she's ok? She hasn't answered any of my calls, or texts."

"Go for it," Cragen nods.

* * *

As Fin gets into his car he dials Olivia's number. It goes to voicemail.

"Hey Liv, it's Fin. I haven't heard from you, in a while. I am getting kind of worried about you. I hope you're still among the living. Anyway I'm headed over to your place right now, to check on you. I'll be there in a few."

He arrives at her apartment twelve minutes later. He knocks on the door of her apartment. He elicits no response. He dials her number but it goes straight to voice mail. His gut tells him something is very wrong. He bangs on the door, one more time.

"Olivia! If you don't open this door, I am going to bust it down."

She doesn't answer, but he remembers that she has given him her spare key, in case of an emergency. Elliot had previously had the key... but now she trusted him with it. He unlocks the door, and steps into the apartment. Instantly he knows that something isn't right.

"Liv? Liv are you here?"

He hears noise, but no voices. He moves towards the bedroom door. It is slightly ajar.

"Olivia, are you in there?"

He hears what sounds like a muffled voice. Without further hesitation he pushes the door open. There is nothing that could prepare him, for what he sees. He freezes, in the doorway. Without a second thought, he pulls the gloves out of his jacket pocket. He flips on the light. The light only makes it worse.

"It's ok," he reassures her, "I'm here now," he approaches the bed.

He tries not to think about how she got zip tied to her own bed. He tries only to focus on her face. Even that proves hard. There is duct tape on her mouth. There is a look of fear, and panic on her face. There are cuts, and bruises all over her. He doesn't look away, even though he wants to. He freezes, inches from the bed. He is careful not to touch anything. He reaches out to her. He peels the tape off her mouth, and cuts her free of the zip ties around her wrists. She doesn't say anything. He notices the blood.

"Liv, where is all of the blood from?"

She turns her head, slightly and he sees the gash to the back of her head. He pulls out his phone.

"I need a bus, a CSU team, and SVU over here, now. Put a uni at the door, and don't let anyone but the EMT's in, until I say so," he demands.

"Liv, I'm right here. You're safe now."

The sirens arrive within moments. A uniformed officer stands at the door. He allows the EMT's through. Fin escorts Olivia out.

"Where did you park?" Fin asks.

"The alley. There was no where else to park."

"Take her out the back. I don't want anyone to see her."

They nod. He follows them to the squad. He climbs in, with them. He stays with her, until they get to the hospital. The nurse walks in, and looks at Olivia. She then looks at Fin. Fin looks to Olivia.

"I am going to step out, but I'll be right outside, if you need me? Ok? I'm not going anywhere."

She simply nods.

He sits outside of the private room, waiting, for what seems like an eternity. Finally the nurse comes out of the room. She hands the uniformed officer, who waits with him, the evidence bags.

"You can go in, now," she tells him.

He nods. He enters the room. His stomach turns at what he sees. Olivia sits in a hospital bed. She wears a gown. Her face is bruised. There are contusions, and abrasions. There are multiple gashes to her head. There are restraint marks on her wrists. There are bruises, that resemble handprints on her arms. Her collar bone is a deep purple. He swallows hard, and takes a seat next to her. He doesn't say a word. Neither does she. She just reaches for his hand. He gladly relinquishes it to her. She squeezes his hand, but she refuses to look at him.

"I'm not going to ask you what happened," he tells her.

The cop in her instantly kicks in, "I have to tell somebody. I need to give my statement."

"You don't have to do it now."

"I want you to take my statement."

"Are you sure?"

She nods, "Yes."

"Ok. I am ready whenever you are, he tells her, taking the recorder out of his pocket."

"Two nights ago, I woke up. There was someone standing over my bed. At first, I thought that it was just a dream. I have nightmares like that, a lot. Usually I wake up, before I can see a face. This time, I didn't. I saw a face, and I knew something was wrong. I didn't feel right. I couldn't get woken up. I felt like jello," she begins.

"Did you go out, before hand?"

"I had dinner, at a diner, a block from my apartment. I had a cheeseburger, and a milkshake. When I got home I was really tired. I took a shower, and went right to bed."

"What time was that?"

"It wasn't even nine, yet. Maybe a quarter til."

"What time did you wake up?"

"Nine oh seven."

"Did you notice anyone following you, on your way home?"

"No."

"Ok."

"Before I could do anything, his knee was on my chest. I tried to move, to push him off of me, but I was just so tired. He took the zip ties, and he bound my wrists to the headboard. He put the duct tape over my mouth," she trails off.

"Did he say anything?"

She nods, her lip quivers. She's on the verge of tears, "He said, 'I'll teach you what it means to be a special victim, Detective Benson.'"


	2. Details

"Did you recognize the voice?"

"Not at first, but after a while," she admits, "When the sun came up, I realized why his voice sounded familiar."

"Oh."

"I collared him, before, but we didn't have enough evidence to put him away."

"Do you..."

She cuts him off, "Bradley Harper."

"He didn't wear a mask?"

"No," she shakes her head.

"We can stop, if you want."

"No, we can't."

"If you need a break, it's ok," he tells her.

"I can only do this once, so please, just listen," she begs.

"Ok," he nods, in agreement.

She begins to recall the details to him.

* * *

_She tries to scream, but nothing comes out. He pulls out a syringe. He takes off his belt, and tightens it around her arm. He waits, until a vein pops out. He stabs it into her vein._

_"I don't want you to fight back, yet," he tells her._

_She tries to push him off. She can't move. She finds herself powerless, as her peels off her clothing, item by item. He does it slowly to torture her. She feels her breathing slow, and her muscles turn to jello, even though she wants to scream._

* * *

The tears trickle down her face.

"I just wanted it to be over. I wanted to fight, but I couldn't. I don't know what he gave me. I could feel everything, but I couldn't do anything. When it was over, I thought that he would leave. I waited, and waited, but I was so tired. I fell asleep. I thought that when I woke up it would all be a dream. At the very least, I thought that he would be gone. He wasn't. He just sat there, watching me. He made me call work, and day that I was sick."

"So, you slept for hours?"

"Yes," she nods, "I called in around three."

"He didn't leave then?"

"He didn't leave, until you called, and said that you were coming."

"I'm so sorry. I should have come sooner."

"You had know way of knowing."

"My gut told me something was wrong, but I tried to ignore it."

"Fin it's not your fault."

He looks her in the eyes, "It wasn't yours, either."

"After I called in sick, I realized that I didn't feel like a bowl of jello. I tried to get free, but I couldn't. He just watched me trying to get free. Finally I broke one of the ties. I rolled towards the nightstand. I put my gun, in the drawer, at night. As I went to open the drawer, I realized that he was letting me. I opened the drawer, and it was gone. I turned, and looked at him. He had it. He hit me in the cheekbone, with the back of the gun. I was still trying to get free. He hit me in the back of the head, with the gun. I passed out. When I came to, both my hands were bound, again. He was on top of me."

"How long, did it go on?"

"From Sunday night, until you found me, on Tuesday morning."

"How did you get so many bruises?"

"Monday night, I woke up, and I wasn't bound anymore. Instead there was a lock on the door," she recalls.

* * *

_She stares at the pad lock on the door. He sits on the end of the bed. _

_"If you behave, I won't tie you up. I have a feeling that you're going to try to run."_

_She moves towards him, with rage, and purpose. She grabs the gun, from his hands, before he can react. _

_"There aren't any bullets in there," he tells her, with a smile._

_She turns the gun around, so that the barrel is in her hand. She raises it, to hit him. He reaches out, and takes the gun from her. At six foot five, and two hundred, seventy pounds, he slips the gun from her hands, with ease. He tosses the gun aside. _

_"That was not a very smart move," he tells her._

_She uppercuts him in the jaw. He twists her arm behind her back, so quickly, and violently that she feels as if her shoulder, and arm is going to snap. He slams her against the bed._

* * *

He can't take his eyes off of her, as she recounts every detail. Her right eye is black, and blue. Her cheek bone is purple. She has a split lip, it's purple, and swollen. There are stitches to the back of her head, and the side of her face. There is a burn mark on her shoulder, from a cigarette. There is a handprint around her neck. She tells him of a fractured rib, and a dislocated shoulder. As she tells him every detail, he knows that it's not the injuries that he can see, but he ones he can't, that will take the longest to heal. Finally after over an hour, she finishes.

"If you hasn't shown up, I wouldn't have made it," she tells him.

"I..."

"Before he bound me, to the bed, he laid the gun next to me. It was loaded. He walked into the bathroom. That's when you called."

He realizes after all she's been through she probably doesn't want to be touched. He decides to offer a hug, anyway. As he moves closer he notices she doesn't fight him. She reaches for him, instead. He hugs her.

"I got you," he reminds her.

After a moment he lets go. He returns to his seat, next to the bed. He listens as the IV pump infuses IV solution.

"Fin?"

"Yeah, Liv?"

"Don't leave," she insists.

"I'm not going to leave this room," he promises her.

"Are you sure?"

He notices how heavy her eyelids appear. He squeezes her hand, "You look tired. Get some rest. I'll be here, when you wake up."

"I am afraid to go to sleep," she admits.

"That's ok. I'm right here."

Finally she falls asleep. When she does, he calls Cragen.

"Cragen," he answers.

"Hey, it's Fin."

"How's our girl?"

"She's been through hell."

"I got the information that you sent. Amaro is tossing the perp's apartment, now."

"How did this happen?"

"I don't know," he admits.


	3. Give It Time

She opens her eyes, and finds him sitting next to her. He's sound asleep.

"Fin," she whispers.

His eyes pop open, "Do you need something?"

"You should go home. You've been here for twenty hours. Go get some rest."

"I'm not leaving you," he tells her.

"I only sleep thirty minutes at a time, anyway. I am sure that you won't miss anything."

"Olivia, I am not going anywhere."

"You can't sleep in that chair."

"I'm not sleeping in the floor."

"You can sleep here," she offers.

"Then where are you going to sleep? The chair?"

She doesn't say anything. He gets up from the chair, and takes a seat on the bed, next to her. She doesn't protest. He turns to face her. He reaches for her hand.

"You don't want me to go, do you?"

She furrows her brow, "I don't want to be alone."

"Everyone else is working, so you're stuck with me."

"You told them to stay busy, didn't you?"

"I didn't think that you would want them here."

"I don't want anyone to see me like this, not even you."

"I'm already here."

She scoots over to the other side of the bed. He looks at her questioningly.

"You don't have to move," she tells him.

He leans back, and puts his feet up on the bed.

"Liv, go to sleep," he says softly.

* * *

Rollins stares at the screen. It's a map. Suddenly the picture disappears. She looks up, and finds Amaro standing behind her.

"What are you doing?"

"We aren't going to find him," Nick tells her.

"It has been forty eight hours, and you're going to give up, already?"

"We have looked everywhere. We have a BOLO out on his vehicle. We have his picture out at every airport, subway station, train, and bus depot. He's long gone."

"Or he's hiding. There are lots of places to hide, in the city."

"Not when every single cop on NYPD payroll is looking for you," Nick tells her.

"You don't think we're going to find him, do you?"

"I think that he's probably in Brazil, by now," Nick admits.

"Where is John?"

"Who knows," Nick shrugs.

"Out there, chasing down leads, like you should be doing," the captain growls.

"Can I go see my partner?" Amanda questions.

"You can try. I don't know if she'll let you."

"What do you mean?"

"I went earlier, she wouldn't let me see her."

"She has to talk, to someone."

"She's talking to Fin," Cragen points out.

* * *

He knocks on the door, of a house in the suburbs. He hears footsteps. The door opens. She looks at him, puzzled.

"Detective Munch, what are you doing here?"

"Kathy, I need to speak to Elliot."

"I'll get him."

She takes a step back. A few moments later Elliot comes to the door.

"John, what are you doing here?"

"I need your help."

"Help, with a case? Ask Fin, or Olivia."

"Fin is occupied, and Liv is the case."

"What?!"

"You heard me."

"I'll get my coat."

Two seconds later, he is following John to his car. John briefs him. Elliot reads the case file, as John drives, tracking down possible leads.

"John, pull over for a minute."

John pulls over. "What is it?"

"I remember this guy. He was really slick. We had a hard time catching him, to begin with."

"Where did you find him?"

"An abandoned building in Astoria."

"We checked, already."

"It was one of the foster homes he was in, as a child."

"We have looked all of those places."

"Did you look at the field house where he used to play baseball?"

"No. You think that he might be there?"

"When he was in high school, he was a star athlete. It was the only thing that he was good at."

"That isn't true. He was good at making money, and keeping scum on the street."

"It can't hurt to check it out."

* * *

He comes back into the room, with a bag. She places the bag on the end of her bed.

"You signed your discharge papers?"

"What's in the bag?" she questions, sitting up, in the bed.

"I asked Rollins to put together some things for you."

"That's a pretty big bag," she comments, as she wrings her hands.

"I thought that you could stay with me, for a couple of days."

"Oh."

"If you want," he offers.

She swallows hard, "I don't want to go home."

He offers the bag to her, "We can pick up lunch, on our way."

"Shouldn't you be working?" she wonders, as she takes the bag from him.

"I am."

"From here?" she raises an eyebrow.

"Don't worry about it," he tells her.

"You don't have to stay..." she begins.

"I want to."

She nods, and heads into the bathroom, with her bag. When she enters the bathroom, she finds that the mirror is missing. She quickly gets dressed, and pulls her hair into a pony tail. She brushes her teeth, even though the toothpaste stings her lips. She exits the bathroom, and looks at Fin, questioningly.

"What happened to the mirror?"

He shrugs, innocently, "I don't know."

"Every time I went in there, there was something over the mirror. What gives?"

"Give it a few days," he recommends.


	4. Nowhere Fast

"I was there. It was hell. I don't need a mirror to know what I look like. Fin, you don't have to worry about me."

"Olivia, yesterday, I walked out of the room, for ten minutes. When I got back, you were in the shower, again. Four times, in one day. You were in there for an hour," he says, delicately.

"I don't know what you want me to say. I can tell you that I am going to be ok, but," she pauses, choking back tears, her lip quivers, "even I don't believe that."

"You ready?"

"No, but I guess I don't have much choice."

"I'll buy your lunch."

"I'm not hungry."

"You haven't eaten in two days. You have to eat, something."

"Can we just go?"

"Ok," he nods.

The car ride is mostly silent. He decides not to stop for something to eat, after all. He orders delivery, on their way to his place. He pulls into a parking spot, and gets her bag out of the back seat. She follows him up to his apartment. He opens the door, and she follows him in.

"The bathroom is straight ahead. The bedroom, is to the left, and the kitchen, as you can see, is right here. I put fresh linens on the bed. You can have the room."

"The couch is fine," she tells him.

He nods. She tosses her bag on the floor, and heads for the couch.

"Can I get you anything? A drink?"

"No."

He opens the fridge, "I've got... water."

"No thanks."

He exits the kitchen, and heads into the living room, with her. He takes a seat on the couch, and looks at her.

"What's on your mind?"

"You still haven't caught him," she reveals.

"We will."

"You and I both know that you can't ensure that."

"Olivia, we will catch him."

"It doesn't matter. I don't know if I am ever going to feel safe, again."

"You're safe here, with me. I am not going to let anything happen to you, on my watch."

"Fin, you don't have to babysit me."

"I'm not. If anything, you're keeping me out of trouble."

"If you're here, who is going to..."

"Get to do the interrogation? Munch, and I put our heads together, on that one."

"That is scary," Olivia points out.

"Let's just say, we called in a special favor."

"What kind of a favor?"

"I am sure that Rollins will make sure that everything is done by the book."

"What do you mean? What favor did you call in?"

"Don't worry about it."

"I just want to sleep."

"I'll get you a pillow," he offers.

He heads into the bedroom, and grabs a pillow, and a blanket. He hands it to her.

"Where are you going to sit?"

"Do you see that ugly-ass recliner, over there in the corner?"

Olivia nods.

"That is the love of my life. Her name is Sheila. She's ugly, and she's old, but man, is she comfortable."

"It looks like you picked it up along side the curb, on trash day," Olivia tells him.

"She's seen better days, but she's got a special memory foam like cushion," he explains.

"Memory foam, like? What does that mean?"

"There's a permanent crater, where my butt goes."

"How long have you had that chair?" Olivia wonders.

"Nineteen glorious years."

"I see. Are you going to watch the TV, or just stare at it?"

"I thought you were going to sleep," he points out.

"The TV doesn't bother me. The only thing that interrupts my sleep, are the dreams."

"Liv, if you need anything, I'll get it for you. I don't care what it is."

"I just want some sleep."

"Ok," he nods.

She manages to fall asleep, rather quickly. Ten minutes into her nap the delivery man shows up. Fin answers the door, as quickly as possible. By the time he closes the door, Olivia is wide awake.

"I'm sorry," he apologizes.

"It's not your fault."

"Are you hungry? I have Chinese food? I got your favorite."

"Maybe I can dream about being stuck in a Chinese restaurant, instead of..."

"Hey, do you remember that time we ordered from..." he tries to recall.

"Peking Pi? How could I forget? They got our order wrong. They forgot the fortune cookies. The food was lukewarm."

He picks up, with the story, "But, we were starving, so we ate it."

"We hadn't eaten in like, twenty hours," she points out.

"That was a mistake. I have never been so sick, in my life. I swear, I puked up a toy sword that I swallowed, when I was three."

"It was the whole squad, remember?"

"Yeah," he nods, "I didn't think that we were going to make it."

"I hope I didn't ruin your appetite," Olivia apologizes.

"Are you kidding me? This is the best Chinese food, in the city. It is like crack cocaine. Are you sure that you don't want some? Other than jello, what have you eaten?"

"I had a pudding."

"Oh, I forgot about the pudding. Olivia, when was the last time you actually ate?"

"Days ago," she admits.

"Please, eat, something."

Finally she gives in, and eats, something. She falls asleep, as they watch TV. He takes the opportunity to make some phone calls.

"Munch," the party on the other end answers.

"Any progress?"

"We haven't found him, yet. He ditched his cell phone. He withdrew all of the money from his bank account. The last time he was seen, was at the bank. That was days ago."

"There has to be something. We have to find him. Where did he go, from the bank?"

"He got into a black SUV."

"Plate number?"

"They were stolen plates. He could be halfway across the country, by now."

"Or, he could have ditched the car, and be waiting."

"We'll keep looking."

"Maybe you should check at the crime scene."

"We have, I'll make a stop over there, again, though."

"Thanks, Munch."

"How's our girl, doing?"

"She's sleeping."

"Good."


	5. More To The Story

Rollins, and Amaro head over to the crime scene. Rollins cuts open the seal, on the door. She pushes the door open. Nick comes in with her. They make their way to the bathroom. They have their guns drawn. They find that the apartment is empty. Amanda turns on the light, in the bedroom.

"Come on, let's go," Amaro tells her.

"He's not going to come back, unless he thinks that she's here," Amanda points out.

"So, what do you suggest? Are you going to try to convince her to come back here? Somehow, I don't think that's going to happen."

Amanda looks around the room, "She's never going to come back here."

"Do you think he would have killed her, if Fin hadn't come over?"

Amanda shakes her head, "No. He wanted her alive. You don't torture someone like that, just so you can kill them, when you're done."

"Have you seen her?"

"I went over to the hospital, to drop off some clothes, for her. She still won't let anyone see her."

"Except for Tutola?"

"They have worked together for over a decade."

"She wouldn't even see the captain," Nick points out.

"Fin found her," Amanda adds.

"I can't imagine what that was like."

"Finding her? I can't imagine what it was like, for her."

"I don't want to think about it."

"You have to. Get angry. That is the only way we're going to find this guy. He wants to have power over her. He was trying to break her."

"Do you think that it worked?"

Amanda swallows hard, "He raped her, twelve times."

"I didn't..."

"You didn't listen to the tape?" she inquires.

"I couldn't. She was my partner."

"He was here, for sixty hours. He made her call in sick to work..."

"Do we have those tapes?"

"I think she just left a voicemail, for Cragen."

"We have to find this bastard."

"The question is, how."

* * *

He doesn't take a seat, at his old desk. He sits at hers, instead. He looks around the room. Cragen comes out of his office.

"She doesn't know that you're here," Cragen explains.

"Don't tell her," Elliot insists, "She wouldn't want me to."

Munch hangs up the phone. He approaches them, "Captain, we have a problem."

"Our suspect is in the wind?" Cragen responds.

"Other than that," John replies.

"What?"

"We collared him, in the past, for three rapes. We couldn't catch him, because we didn't have enough evidence."

"He used a condom," Elliot recalls.

"Yeah, but he stopped, when he started raping cops," Munch reveals.

"What?!"

"We didn't connect the cases, because they were in different jurisdictions. He changed his M.O. He stopped using a condom. Instead of attacking his victims, and then leaving, he escalated. Eight weeks after we collared him, Stephanie Green, a detective from the 1st precinct reported a rape. Most recently, two months ago a female detective, by the name of Gina Kennedy reported a rape. She is in the one three."

"How long ago did we collar him?" Cragen questions.

"Maybe eight years ago," Elliot recalls.

"That sounds right," Cragen nods.

"Every time he changes something," John adds.

"Except that he's picking female detectives."

"Eight years, and he only attacks two other women? I don't buy it. I would be willing to bet that this guy has hit every precinct between one, and sixteen, in the last eight years," Elliot theorizes.

"So are you saying, that you think he'll hit the 17, next?" Munch questions.

"No. He's too smart for that. We need to talk to other precincts."

Four hours later, they stand around a board, with pictures on it. Elliot, Munch, Rollins, Amaro, and Cragen, stare at the board, in disbelief. Casey walks into the room. She stops, next to Elliot.

"What are you doing here?"

"They needed an extra hand, and I got approval from the brass, for this one. They want this guy, as bad as we do," Elliot explains.

"He's not here in an official capacity. He's just here as a consultant," Cragen explains.

"Captain, you called. What's going on?"

Cragen points to the board, "This."

"What is this?" Casey inquires.

"He has struck every precinct, from one to sixteen."

"How did we not know about this?"

"Because the only DNA hits there were, were to each other," Elliot explains.

"Didn't we get his DNA, eight years ago?"

"No. He wouldn't volunteer it. We never got far enough to compel it," Cragen explains.

"But, the DNA is the same, on all of these cases?" Casey questions.

"Yes," Amanda confirms.

"Who are these women?" Casey wonders.

"They are all female detectives. The first one, he stayed with for about four hours. He stayed with one victim for as long as five days," Munch reveals.

"How many of them?" Casey queries.

"Fourteen," Cragen answers.

"And we have absolutely no idea where he is?" Casey shakes her head.

Dr. Huang enters the squad room.

"I know where he'll go," he responds.

"Where is that, doc?" Amaro wonders.

"He goes back to the crime scene. I read through all of the reports. He returns to the crime scene, within twenty four hours of the victim being released from the hospital. All of the women claim to have seen him, standing outside their window. Before they can dial 911, he's gone."

"Then we need to get back to the crime scene," Elliot insists.

"We were already there," Amanda points out.

"He doesn't know that Liv didn't go home, did he?" Nick questions.

"Let's use a decoy," Amanda suggests.


	6. Prize

They are discussing a way to catch the perpetrator. A female detective from the 11th precinct walks in to the squad room. Nick looks up, at her, from his desk.

"Can I help you?" he asks.

"I am not sure about that, but I think that I can help you," she tells him.

"Ok?"

"My name is Cindy Davis," she explains.

"You are a detective from the one-one," he realizes.

"Yes. I heard what happened. I would like to help."

"We can go in the other room, and talk, if you want," he offers.

She pulls up a chair, next to Olivia's desk. Elliot is busy reading through the case files.

"I thought that this might bring you back."

He looks up, "Just for this one," he explains.

"How are you going to catch him?" she questions.

"We still don't know."

"He likes to revisit the crime scenes. He like to taunt his victims," she reveals.

"That is what we heard," he nods.

"I have been a cop, for most of my life. My first day on the job, was my twenty first birthday. It was the only thing that I ever wanted to do."

He smiles, "Me too."

"I have seen a lot of terrible things in my life, but nothing prepared me, for that night, two years ago. I had been a cop, for eighteen years," she recounts.

"You're still at it?" he questions.

"He stayed for two days. Two years later, I still have nights, that I don't sleep. He may have taken my sense of security, but I was going to be damned, if he took my badge, too."

"We want to lure him back, to the scene of the crime," Elliot explains.

"What's the problem?"

"She isn't there. She is... elsewhere."

"You don't think that he'll go back, if she's not there?"

"Exactly."

"You're wrong. I moved three times, afterwards. About a week after my attack, I came home, and the pillows on my bed were moved. At first I thought that I was crazy. The next day, when I got home, there was a muddy print, next to my bed."

"I don't understand why we're having such a hard time catching him. He seems so sloppy," Elliot shakes his head.

"He's calculated. It wasn't muddy out that night. He just wanted me to know he had been there."

"Why can't we catch him? He doesn't wear a condom."

"He wears gloves, so we can't match the fingerprints. He makes sure that his attacks are planned when we that unit is overloaded with other cases."

"But, he is attacking female detectives," Elliot points out.

"No one was looking for a pattern, and he changes his. He stays for varied amounts of time. He says different things. He uses different weapons. He enters the buildings, in different ways."

"He only needs one weapon, fear," Elliot reminds her.

"Do you think that he's done?" she poses the questions.

He shrugs, "I don't know."

"I have been trying to get this guy, for two years. I know a lot about him. He is smart. He knows that he will get caught, if he strikes again."

"He is a rapist, he..."

She looks over at the wipe board. She gets out of her seat. Elliot follows her to the board. He looks at the victim.

"Do you see the pattern?" she questions.

"They are all female detectives, but their appearances differ. Religious backgrounds vary..."

"They are all career cops. They are all unmarried."

"We know that," he admits.

"I don't think that you understand."

"Understand, what?"

"She was his end game. He was waiting, for her to catch him. It was a game. All of the other victims, they were just practice."

"What are you saying?"

"I don't think that he's done with her, yet. The victim, prior to her, he stayed for five days. He got interrupted."

"He doesn't know where she is."

"He'll figure it out."

* * *

She tosses, and turns, on the couch. Fin sits in his chair, and watches her. He clears his throat.

"Oliva?"

She opens her eyes. "Hm?"

"Why don't you take the bed? That couch is not comfortable."

"I don't want to."

"Why not?"

"There is a window," she points out.

"Olivia, I'll be right out here. You don't have anything to worry about."

"I..."

"I promise."

She sits up. She takes a deep breath, and grabs the pillow, and blanket. She pushes the door to his room open, and takes a seat on his bed.

"Is this memory foam, too?" she jokes.

He gets out of the recliner, and walks into the bedroom.

"I forgot to show you the remote," he answers.

"I don't want to watch TV."

"To the bed," he replies.

"A remote, to the bed? What are you talking about?"

"It's adjustable."

"The bed is adjustable?"

"Just because my chair has seen better days, doesn't mean I don't like nice things."

"Ok."

He hands her the remote, "You can adjust the firmness to whatever you want."

"You're weird."

"Why does that surprise you? You have always known that," he points out.

"Thanks," she tells him.

He nods, as he leaves the room. She rolls into the middle of the bed, with the remote next to her. She puts one pillow under her head, and one over it.


	7. Tortured

She is glad to be home, as she steps into her apartment. She locks the door behind her. She exhales, and reaches for a bottle of wine. She places the bottle, on the counter. She reaches into the cabinet, for a glass. Her stomach twists into a knot. The hair on the back of her neck stands up.

"Come on, Casey," she tells herself.

She finds that she is unable to think about anything, other than the case at hand. After all, one of her co-workers, one of her close friends, was the latest victim. A victim, of a sadistic, bastard. Who rapes cops, not ADA's, she reminds herself. This reminder doesn't seem to settle her nerves. Her thoughts begin to run.

What if he wasn't done, as they had suggested? He liked to change his pattern. That is what made him such an unusual serial rapist. He liked change. He left his DNA, inside of his victims, but no fingerprints. What if instead of being done, he was out for revenge? What if he had been out for revenge, since he began raping cops? Maybe it wasn't about power. It was about rage, and a personal vendetta.

* * *

_8 years earlier-_

_Olivia chases him down the street. She tackles him to the ground. Her knee rests on his back. She securely pins him to the ground. Her partner joins her. She cuffs him. Elliot helps him off the ground. He squirms. Her nostrils flare, in rage. She slams him against the door of the car._

_She didn't always get this angry. She rarely used excessive force. This was different. She knew, from the moment she looked in his eyes, that he was guilty. He had cold, soulless eyes. She recites his Miranda rights._

* * *

He hated Olivia. He wanted to hurt her. Olivia had humiliated him. She had emasculated him. He wanted to get back at her, by any means necessary. What if that meant hurting the people she was associated with, too? The people she worked with, and cared about? Casey can't find enough nerve to pour her wine. She leans against the counter. She gets the feeling that she isn't alone. He's watching her. She swallows hard, calculating her next move. Before she can reach for her phone, he slithers out, into the light. He comes out of the doorway, of her bedroom.

"Hello, Casey. It's so nice to see you," he approaches, "Have a glass of wine, it will make you feel better," he muses.

"Tell me, how do you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Make them feel like jello?"

"It's my own personal cocktail recipe. I can't share my trade secrets with you," he pulls out a knife.

"You don't want to use your fists, instead? Maybe you can put your hands around my neck, and choke me out."

"Don't tease me," his lips curl into an evil grin.

"If you want me, you're going to have to kill me."

"I hoped that you would say that. We're going to have so much fun, together."

"I don't even enjoy being the same courtroom, with you."

"Don't worry, I'll make it memorable," he promises.

"How did you ever become a lawyer?"

"The same way that you did."

"We have enough evidence to put you away, for life."

"And I'll be in your head, for the rest of yours," he taunts, he closes the gap, between them. He presses the knife against her neck.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to kill you, yet. Just a slice here, and there. I'm going to strip you, of your clothes, and then, your dignity," he nicks her neck.

She winces.

"Come on, let's go," he pushes her, towards the bedroom.

He wraps his hand around her wrist. He drags her towards the bedroom. He flips on the light.

"I don't want you to forget my face."

She swallows hard. He pushes her onto the bed. She struggles.

"I forgot how fun it was, to have a feisty one."

He approaches, reaching for his belt. He moves towards her. She spits in his face. She kicks, and he whips out his knife. She moves, before it can hit her arm. She knows that before it goes any farther, he's going to use his belt, as a tourniquet. He's going to jab a needle into her arm, and inject her, with something. She moves towards the head of the bed. He is focused on getting the needle out of his kit. She stops, when she reaches the pillow. The lawyer part of her, screams. He reaches for her arm. She doesn't struggle. He puts the belt around her left arm. She takes her only opportunity. She pulls the gun, from under her pillow. It's a revolver. She's already cocked it, knowing that the chamber is full.

She had been through a lot of practice, and training. Olivia had helped her. They had been over a lot of what if, scenarios. She was prepared, for what would happen, if she only had one hand. It's a small gun. His eyes focus on her vein, as he wields the needle. She fires, without a second thought. It is a shot, that is close range. The bullet is a small caliber. She knows that accuracy is key, as she cocks the weapon, a second time. The bullet hits him, in the shoulder. He drops the needle. He stumbles backwards in agony. It takes him a moment, to regain his footing. This enrages him. He reaches for his knife.

"I am going to make you regret that." With one hand he holds a knife, with the other he reaches for the gun.

She fires, again, as he comes at her, with the knife. She know has two hands on the weapon, providing more accuracy. The bullet exits the barrel. It hits him in the rib cage. He falls backwards. He hits his head, on the floor. She puts the gun down, and reaches for the phone. She can barely dial the three numbers. He lies on her floor, bleeding as she talks to the 911 dispatcher. He continues to breathe. She hangs up the phone, and grabs the gun. She slides off the bed, and leaves the room. She's sitting in the kitchen, waiting, when the paramedics arrive. The police are right behind them, into the building.

Casey answers the door, when the paramedics knock.

"He's in there," she points.

Amaro is the first familiar face that she sees. He follows the paramedics into her apartment. He looks at her.

"Are you ok?"

"I didn't kill him," she answers.

"Did he hurt you? You're bleeding."

He reaches for a paper towel. She presses it against her neck. She holds out the gun, to him, with the hand grip towards him. He notes the four bullets on the counter.

"I emptied it, after. I shot him, twice," she adds.

"Did he hurt you?"

"No."


	8. Dream On

She's still asleep, when he gets the call. He hangs up the phone, and enters his room. He flips on the light. He finds Olivia curled up, in the middle of the bed, with a pillow, and blanket. He sighs, wondering whether to wake her up, or just let her sleep. She faces the door. She opens her eyes, and looks at him.

"This is why I can't sleep."

"Because I came in to check on you?"

"Cop senses. We're trained to notice everything. It doesn't help, when I'm trying to sleep."

"I have some news, for you."

"Good, or bad?"

"A little bit of both," he admits.

"Just give it to me, straight."

"We caught him."

"Where?"

"Casey's."

"Casey's? Is she alright?" she sits up.

"She's fine. He didn't do anything to her, except slice her neck. She's ok."

"What happened?"

"She shot him, twice."

"Did she kill him?"

"He's in the ICU, right now. She had a gun, under her pillow."

"Casey has more guns than I do," Olivia reveals.

"What?!"

"She has at least three that I know of," Olivia adds.

"Why?"

"She works SVU, too. She's a good shot."

"She didn't kill him. The bullet hit him in the lung, not the heart."

"Then that's where she was aiming. She probably didn't want to kill him."

"What makes you say that?"

"Justice. Poetic, and otherwise."

"How do you mean?"

"If you shoot someone in the lung, they'll probably live, if the paramedics get there, in time."

"She wants him to suffer. I can see that, he deserves that."

"And, she wants him to go to trial."

"She can't try him, now."

"It doesn't matter. Alex will crucify him."

"You can go back to sleep, if you want."

"How long was I asleep, this time?"

"We got a record. Twenty nine minutes."

"How am I ever going to..." she trails off. He can see how vulnerable she is. He sees the look of uncertainty in her eyes. She looks at him, on the verge of tears.

"It's ok," he reassures her.

"How am I ever going to come back to work? I can barely face _you_."

"Just give it some time."

The tears start to fall, now, "What if that isn't enough?"

"Let's cross that bridge, when we come to it?"

"How am I going to face all of them? I am supposed to help victims, and now..."

"Don't say it," he insists.

She shakes her head, as the tears trickle down her cheeks, "I am one."

"No, you're not. You're strong, and resilient. You are going to get through this."

"I can't even face my co-workers. How am I supposed to get on the stand, and testify? I could barely tell you what happened, and I trust you, with my life. I have known you for over a decade. I don't know if I can do this," she cries.

"You can."

"I'm broken, and I don't know if I can be fixed."

"You're not broken," he argues.

"Then what am I?"

"Scarred. It is just going to take time for you to heal."

"I..."

She sobs. He takes a seat on the bed, next to her. He wraps his arms around her. He holds her closely. She holds to him, tightly. He feels her tears soak through the shoulder of his t-shirt. He pushes her hair, out of her face, to keep it from sticking.

"Shh! I'm right here."

After a few moments, she calms down. Her breathing slows, and she lets go. She wipes away the tears, on the shoulder of her NYPD t-shirt.

"How am I supposed to do this? I can't even sleep for half an hour."

"Shove over," he tells her.

She scoots over, to the middle of the bed.

"Go to sleep."

"Just because you want me to, and I want to means that I can. Every time I close my eyes, I see him. I'm back there, and..."

"Look around you. You're not there. You never have to go back there. This is your reality, and I'm right here, with you. You go to sleep, and I'll stay right here. When you wake up, this is where I'll be. I'm not leaving you."

"You can't stay with me, forever."

"But I can stay with you, now. I can stay, until you don't need me anymore."

"And when you have to go back to work?"

"Amanda can have her turn."

"I don't want anyone else to see me like this. Fin, have you seen me? I look like someone threw me in a blender. My eye is black, and blue. My lip is busted up. I have stitches in my head. I have contusions, and abrasions, and scratches, all over me. I look like hell. No one needs to see me, not even you. _I_ don't even want to see me."

"I've seen worse," he lies.

"Not in this lifetime."

"Just close your eyes, and go to sleep."

"So I can dream about this nightmare, that I'm living?"

"Dream about something else," he tells her.

"What do you suggest?"

"If you close your eyes, I'll tell you," he says in a soft voice.

"Fine," she relents, closing her eyes.

"Think about the time that you beat me at pool. We went out, all of us, and you beat Elliot, and me. I believe that you even beat the captain. Think about that, and that when you're up for a rematch, which you have been promising me, for five years, Ima school you."

"In _your_ dreams."


	9. Victim

He opens his eyes, and realizes that he's fallen asleep. He finds that his arm is under her neck, as she sleeps. She's on her side, and her hand rests on his chest. He looks at her, and smiles, thankful that she's stolen one moment of peace. He looks at the clock. It tells him that they've been asleep, for nearly three hours. He closes his eyes, not wanting to disturb her. It doesn't take long for him to fall back asleep.

An hour, and a half later, he wakes up, having to pee. He waits for the right moment. He feels guilty, even thinking about disturbing her. Her eyes open, and she looks at him. She sits up, and frees his hand. She doesn't say anything. He slides out of the bed, and makes his way to the bathroom. When he returns, she's right where he left her. She looks at the clock.

"Is that clock right?" she wonders.

"Yeah," he nods.

"I slept for four and a half hours?"

"Yeah. I'm sorry if I woke you."

"It's ok."

He takes a seat, on the bed.

"Olivia, you're going to have to talk to someone."

"I talked to you."

"Other than me. I mean a professional."

"I don't want to talk to anyone. I didn't want to talk to you, but I had no choice. Fin, I wish that..." she pauses.

"You wish, what?"

"You didn't have to see me like that. I wish that you didn't see me now."

"Olivia, don't worry about it."

"How can I not? I work with you, everyday. How are you supposed to know that I have your back, if all you can think about, is seeing me like that, like this?"

"I have been working this unit, long enough to know, that you have to look past the bruises, and scratches, and the broken bones, and the wounded souls. You're still you. You're still the best detective I know."

"But I'm not me," she argues.

"Keep telling yourself that, and you never will be."

"Everything we feed to victims, it's a load of horse shit."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know how to move on. I am just so angry."

"I know."

"But, I'm more angry at myself, than anyone. How could I let this happen?" her lip quivers, as a tear escapes, down her cheek.

"Let it happen? Liv you didn't let it happen. No on lets it happen."

"I could have stopped it."

"How? He drugged you. He's a big guy. You couldn't have stopped it. You couldn't have done anything differently."

She shakes her head, "That's bullshit, and you know it," she calls him out.

"What makes you say that?"

"I could have caught him, earlier. I could have put him away, and this never would have happened. I could have stopped this."

"No," he argues, "You couldn't have."

"What happens, now? What am I supposed to do?"

"You just live your life, that is the best revenge."

"Fin I don't know how to do that. I can't sleep, without you, right there. I am afraid to be alone, in a room. I don't ever want to go back home. I have lived in the same place, for fifteen years. He hit me, with my own gun. How am I supposed to move on?"

"You need help. Olivia I know that you hate asking for help. I know that you are stubborn, and you want to do everything, on your own, but this time... you can't."

"I don't want anyone to know, what happened."

"Olivia, you can't just hide away, and wait to feel better. That is never going to happen."

"I am sure that everyone already knows. Everyone knows what happened, and eventually I have to go back to work. I have to look them in the face, and I don't know if I can do that."

He swallows hard. He knows that there is a fine line between what she needs to hear, and what is too much to handle. He makes his choice, knowing that it is a questionable one.

"Olivia, you can be a victim, forever, if you want."

She looks him in the eyes, as the tears trail down her face. He waits for her to go off on him. It was ok, if she did, he could handle it. She needed to get angry, at someone.

His words cut through her armor, like a blow torch. For a moment she thinks of all the victims she has met. All of the ones that she judged, and deemed as weak. The women, who could never move on. The ones who let their rapes control the rest of their lives. The ones that were so angry, they could never move on. They could never be happy.

The ones, like her mother. She didn't want to be like that, she vowed she never would. She had vowed never to be anyone's victim, and yet, here she was. Now, she understood, it wasn't ever going to be easy. There was no easy way. Not letting something like this, rule your life, would be more, than difficult, in fact, it may be impossible.

"I don't want to be a victim," she grits her teeth.

"No one is saying you can't be angry, or sad. Nobody is telling you that you should get over it, and be ok. All I'm saying, is that one baby step at a time, you have to move on. I know that it is going to be hard. I know it's going to hurt, but you have to," he feels himself ready to break down. He wills away the tears.

"Why?" she questions, wondering what his reasons for her are.

"Because I want you back," he admits.

"I want that, too."

"I'm like you, I like to shut people out. I try to stay hard, and unbreakable, because the world is cruel, and my life has been a bitch. What you taught me, is that you have to find a balance. You still have to be compassionate, and empathetic, because, if you're not, you lose your humanity. I met you, in a time in my life, that I needed to know that. I had spent a lot of years dealing with the scum of the earth. I was beginning to lose faith in humanity."

"You think that I haven't?"

"But you still have yours," he points out.

"I don't know how true that is," she tells him.

"It's true," he reassures her.

"All I can think about is putting a gun to his head, and pulling the trigger. Then I think to myself that wouldn't be cruel enough for him."

"I know. You don't have to worry about him, anymore."

"He's still alive, isn't he?" she questions him.

"He isn't going to hurt anyone else," he promises her.


	10. Aim

It's just after eight o'clock. She's just gotten out of the shower. She doesn't bother to dry her hair, even though Amanda has packed a hair dryer, for her. She just pulls it up into a pony tail. She stands in the bathroom, looking in the mirror.

In the other room, Fin waits, anxiously, for her to leave the bathroom. He looks at the clock, timing her. The knock on the door gets his attention. He gets out of his recliner. He stops at the door, and looks out the peephole. He pulls the door open, after unlocking it.

"Come in," he motions.

She steps into the apartment, he closes the door, behind her.

"How is she?"

He shrugs, "You should talk to her."

"Last I heard, she wasn't seeing anyone."

"I'm not going to give her a choice. Have a seat," he points to the couch, "I'll be right back."

He makes his way to the bathroom door. He sighs, in relief that he has a reason to interrupt her ritual. He knocks on the bathroom door.

"Olivia?"

"What?" she calls out, from inside.

"I need you to come out here."

"I'm almost done," she tells him.

"You've been in there for an hour, you're done. Come out here."

She pulls open the door, in anger.

"Leave me alone!"

"Olivia, there is someone here to see you."

"I told you, I don't want to see anyone."

"Too bad," he growls, "Get out there."

She stomps out of the bathroom. She pushes past him, and comes into the living room. She freezes, when she sees who's sitting on the couch.

"Casey? What are you doing here?"

Casey looks up. She tries not to focus on Olivia's injuries. She looks her in the eye.

"I wanted to talk to you," she admits.

"Ok," she relents, taking a seat on the couch.

"I assume that Fin told you what happened?"

"Yes," Olivia nods.

"Alex will be the one prosecuting him."

"I figured."

"I know that this is going to be the hardest thing you've ever done. I know that it won't be easy to sit on the stand, and give testimony, when you know most of the faces, in the court room. I can't even imagine what that would be like, having to face him again."

"Why are you here? You know that even if I didn't want to, I would testify."

"He isn't going to get away with this."

"I know that."

"We have a rock solid case."

"Why are you here?" Olivia asks, again.

"I was worried about you."

"Don't be."

"And, there is something that I wanted to tell you," Casey admits.

"What?" Olivia doesn't make eye contact.

"Thank you."

Olivia looks up, "For what?"

"Saving my life."

"I wasn't there," she reminds her.

"I wouldn't have hit him, if it wasn't for you."

"He wouldn't have been in your apartment, if it wasn't for me."

"He is to blame," Casey points out.

"I know that."

"And, I want you to know, that they had to remove part of his lung, he is currently on mechanical ventilation."

"Is he going to be able to stand trial?" Olivia wonders.

"I spoke to his physician this morning. They only removed a part of his lung. They assured me that he would be weaned off the ventilator, soon."

"And if it's unsuccessful?"

"He might die. Even if he doesn't come off the ventilator, he will be able to stand trial."

"How?"

"His cognitive abilities are intact."

"You shouldn't have come," Olivia tells her.

"I had to."

"And, you should have shot him in the heart," she adds.

"I didn't want to kill him."

Olivia looks up at Fin, "See, I told you she didn't miss. She wants to take him to trial."

"Olivia, you know that Alex is going to want to go over your testimony," Casey reminds her.

"I know," she nods.

Fin enters the conversation, "Liv you've got to stop hiding out."

"You know the police commissioner has allowed Elliot to come back, for this case," Casey reveals.

"Isn't he concerned that it will affect the trial?" Fin queries.

"He is there only as a consultant. He can't arrest anyone, or interrogate anyone, on his own."

Casey's cell phone rings. She grabs it out of her pocket, and pulls it to her ear.

"Novak," she answers. She listens for several moments and then continues, "Thank you." She hangs up.

"They took him off the vent. He is awake, and his physician says that he can be interviewed," Casey reveals.

"Fin, you should go," Olivia suggests.

"What will you do?"

"I'll be ok. Casey can take me to talk to Alex," she answers.

"Are you sure?" Fin double-checks.

"Yeah," she nods.

"Ok," he grabs his gun, and badge.

Casey, and Olivia follow him out. Olivia watches him, as he pulls out of his parking spot, with his lights on. She climbs into the car, with Casey.

"We don't have to go see Alex, right now," Casey offers.

"What else are we going to do?"

"We could get a bite to eat."

"No," Olivia shakes her head.

"Casey, look at me."

Casey turns her attention to her passenger. Olivia is dressed more causally than usual. She wears a pair of jeans, and a long sleeved t-shirt. Her hair is pulled back, and she doesn't wear any make-up. For good reason. There was no amount of make up that was going to hide the deep purple color around her eye. There was no hair style that was going to cover up the stitches in the back of her head. There wasn't enough lip gloss in the world to cover her busted, swollen lip.

"Would you want to go to lunch, looking like this?"

Casey doesn't answer.


	11. Thief

After only a week after being released from the hospital, Olivia decides to return to work. Her bruises are beginning to fade, but her scars are far from being healed. Her stitches have been removed. She's standing in the bathroom mirror, getting ready, when someone knocks on the door.

"What?"

"We're going to be late," he tells her.

She slowly makes her way to the door. She pulls it open, and looks at him.

"Are you sure about this?" he questions.

"Let's go," she insists.

"It's only been a week, you don't have to..." he begins.

"Fin, I have to face them, at some point, don't I?"

"You don't know what the day might bring."

"We work SVU, it is always awful. I know that. I am not going to give up, on my job, because of what happened to me. I can handle it."

"Maybe you should ease into it," he suggests.

She grabs her coat, off the hook that's behind the door. She reaches for the doorknob, that is attached to the door, that leads out of the apartment.

"Come on, let's go. You said it yourself, we're going to be late."

"Fine," he grabs his keys, and follows her out of the apartment.

She climbs into the passenger's seat of the car. He pulls away from the building, and heads towards SVU.

"You know, Olivia, I don't care how long you stay with me..."

She cuts him off, "I've been at your place for a week. I know that I've worn out my welcome."

"You haven't. It isn't that, at all. I don't mind having you there. In fact it's kind of nice to have someone to talk to, when I get home."

"But?"

"You are going to have to move out of your apartment, eventually," he points out.

"And where am I going to go? I can't have my mail forwarded to your couch."

"I talked to my building manager. There is a unit that opened up, down the hall, from mine."

"No, takers?" she jokes.

"People tend to shy away from units where old ladies die."

"Old ladies die, all the time. That usually doesn't turn people away."

"She was there for a couple of days."

"So there is an odor?" she questions.

"No. There's just a stain, on the living room floor, that the cleaning people couldn't get rid of. Like I said, she was there for a few days."

"We went from a couple to a few, which is it?"

"It was a week," he admits.

"So no one wants it because there is a stain, on the floor?"

"It's hardwood, and it would be a pain in the ass to replace. If you don't want it, that's fine. I just didn't think it would hurt to look, since you're in the market."

"My lease is up, next week," she reveals.

"So it's perfect timing. You want to look at it, when we get back?"

"Is it so bad, that it can't be covered up by a rug?"

He shrugs, "I don't know. I didn't look at it."

"Oh."

"And, you don't have to look at it, if you don't want. I just thought that you might want to find an apartment that was closer, to one of us. It doesn't have to be me. I'll bet that you could find one in Amanda's building."

"I have to find somewhere. I can't go back there."

"How are you going to move out? You have to go back, and pack up your stuff."

"There is nothing there that can't be replaced," she argues.

"Olivia, you have to face it, at some point."

"What if I don't want to?"

"That's too bad," he pushes her.

"Sometimes I hate you," she tells him.

"Wait until I kick your butt, at pool."

"That is never going to happen."

"So I'm never going to get my rematch?"

"Eventually," she agrees.

They arrive at the precinct with ten minutes to spare. They make their way into the squad room, with eight minutes left.

"You set your clocks a few minutes fast, didn't you?" Olivia accuses.

"I can't reveal that, to you."

She rolls her eyes. The others haven't arrived yet. Olivia takes a seat, at her desk. She notices the stack of papers on it.

"My desk has become a catch-all?"

"We ran out of room," he admits, "Your partner was supposed to finish those."

Olivia flips through the files. "They're all done."

"She must have finished them up, last night, after the Captain left. Oh, El wanted me to tell you that he left you a present."

"Where?" she looks around the surface of her desk.

He shrugs, "He just said he left it at your desk."

She opens her bottom right-hand drawer. The one she has always used to stuff miscellaneous items. She pulls it open. She pulls out the object, inside.

"What is it?"

She holds it up.

"He took a picture of himself, sitting at your desk?" Fin raises an eyebrow.

Amaro comes into the room, "Actually I took it."

"Whose idea was it, to frame it?" Olivia wonders.

"That was on him," Amaro admits, "I'm glad to see you're back," he smiles.

"For future reference, don't let anyone sit at my desk, ever," Olivia warns, as she opens another drawer, and finds that all of her ink pens are missing, "My old partner, was thief."

"A thief?" Amaro questions.

"They went to war, back in the day, because he always stole all of her ink pens. Then he wouldn't return them. He would lose them, or... who knows what," Fin explains.

"Sorry," Amaro apologizes.

Amanda walks into the squad room. She places a plastic bag on Olivia's desk.

"What's this?" she looks up.

"Something you need. We missed you, by the way," Amanda smiles.

Olivia dumps the bag out, on the surface of her desk. "You noticed?"

"Your old partner stole all of my pens, too. He told me he probably owed you twelve years worth."

Olivia stares at the mountain of pens on her desk, "This is only two years worth."

"He said he would pay you back, on an installment plan," Amanda answers.

The captain, and Munch come into the room. Munch joins in on the conversation.

"You know that there are ten years worth of ink pens that you're never going to see again, right?"


	12. Haunted?

She climbs the stairs towards his apartment. She stops outside the door, waiting for him to catch up. He stops, and pulls out his keys. He motions, in another direction.

"Come on."

"Where?"

"The apartment I told you about, the super let me borrow the key."

"He just gave it to you?"

He tilts his head, "If he can't trust me, he can't trust nobody."

She nods, knowing that he's right. She follows him down the hallway, four more doors. He heads to the other side of the hallway. He unlocks the door, to the apartment. He flips on the light, as they step in. The first thing that she sees, in the unfurnished living room, is the stain. Her eyes go right to it.

"That is a big stain, but you could cover it up, with a rug. Why can't they find a tenant?"

He shrugs, "I don't know. The place is a steal. I guess they just haven't found the right person yet. It's a shame, too. It's a two bedroom, for the price of one."

"Fin, you want me close to you, so you can keep an eye on me, don't you?"

"You know my motives," he nods, guiltily.

"So what aren't you telling me?"

"There is a rumor, about this apartment. It's why nobody will touch it."

"What's, that?"

"It's not a rumor, so much as the truth."

"Which, is what? Why don't you want it? It's nicer than your apartment. I looks as if it has been completely remodeled."

"It has. The tenants that were here, before Mrs. Granger, paid a lot of money to re-do the whole thing. Hard wood floors. New cabinets, granite counter-tops. In fact this used to be two apartments. That's why they're is a 308, but not a 309. They bought both of them, and knocked out the wall between them. There is a nice master suite, with a bathroom, and walk in closet. It's two bedrooms, two baths."

"You sound like a real estate agent. What's the catch?"

"Before Mrs. Granger moved in, it was on the market, for five years."

"How could a little old woman afford a place like that?"

"Mrs. Granger wasn't that old. She was in her early sixties. She was a widow, but she was still teaching."

"Why? What's the catch?"

"It's had eight different tenants, in ten years."

"It sat vacant, for five? What's wrong with the place? Is it haunted?"

"No, nobody has seen, or heard anything like that."

"Fin, this place is great. I am certain that it is way out of my price range," she adds.

"I doubt that."

"Just tell me what's wrong with it? Rats? Cockroaches? Bed bugs? Carpenter ants? Noisy upstairs neighbors?"

"Nah, nothing like that."

"So, what? You can tell me."

"Fine, but can we make a deal?"

"What's that?"

"You look at the apartment, before you make me tell you?"

"Fine," she agrees.

He leads her through the apartment. The beautiful kitchen, and dining area. The bedroom, with a huge closet, and beautiful bathroom. The second bedroom, and the guest bathroom. Then to small office space. She follows him back into the living room. Her eyes wonder back to the stain on the floor.

"Fin this is easily a million dollar place."

"The tenants, that lived here, before Mrs. Granger bought it, out right. They paid cash. The real estate agent is only asking what Mrs. Granger owed on it."

"Which, is how much?"

"A hundred, and eighty k."

"That's it?" she shakes her head, in disbelief, "Why?"

"In ten years this apartment has had ten tenants," he begins to explain, "the last, Mrs. Granger, lived here for about eight months."

"And, before that, it sat empty, for five years?"

"The Dolan's lived there, before. They lived here for about eighteen months. Before that, it was Emily Ryan, she stayed for four months. Then there was Harold Jones, for eight months. Jenna Smith, for six months. Brian Fisher, for four months. Henry Roberts for six months. Then finally, the Reid's for six months, before that."

"Why so many? They didn't lie the apartment?"

"It wasn't that," he shakes his head.

"So, what was it? They got different jobs, or..."

"They died."

"What?!"

"Mrs. Dolan had a heart attack, at work, and died."

"And her husband?"

"Was too grief stricken to stay."

"And, Emily?"

"Hit by a car."

"Harold?"

"In all fairness, Harold was ninety eight. He passed away, of natural causes."

"In this apartment?"

"He got pneumonia, and died in the hospital."

"Jenna?"

"Car accident."

"Brian?"

"Brian was killed for not paying his bookie."

"Henry?"

"Henry died of colon cancer. He was diagnosed after a routine exam. He told me about it. Within three days he was in the hospital. Within a week, he had passed away."

"The Reid's?"

He furrows his brow, trying to recall.

"Fin?" she questions.

"Oh, I remember. The husband was murdered, by his wife."

"In this apartment?"

"At his office. She caught him cheating, on her."

"So, what you're telling me, is that the apartment, is cursed?"

"No. The Dolan's completely re-did the apartment, because that's what they thought."

"It didn't work," she points out.

"It isn't cursed," he argues.

"But no one wants to buy it, because when they do a search of previous tenants, they find out that they all died less than two years after moving in?"

"Basically."

"Do you want me to die?"

"No. Olivia the apartment isn't cursed. It just needs someone to give it a second chance, who won't buy into the legend."

"But, that is a tough sell, when the last tenant left her mark, on the floor?"

"Pretty much," he nods.

"I can see why no one wants it."

"You can always go back to your place."

"I would rather curl up, in a ball, on top of that stain, and wait for the apartment to take me," she answers.

"Is that a yes?"

"I'll think about it."

"That's better than a no."

"How many people have they shown this apartment to?" Olivia wonders.

"This time?"

Olivia nods.

"The building manager said that the number was close to a hundred."


	13. Coming Home

"You ready?" he questions looking at his watch.

"It's Friday night, do the two of you have big plans?" Amanda questions.

Olivia nods, "They are the worst plans, ever."

"It has to be done," Fin reminds her.

"What does?" Nick chimes in.

"I am going over to pack up my apartment. I've been putting it off, for weeks."

"Do you need any help?" Amanda offers.

"Thanks for the offer, but I'll be lucky..."

Fin cuts her off, "Maybe you should let them help."

She shoots him a look.

"I've done a lot of packing, in my day. I'm pretty good at it," Amanda reveals.

"You could use some extra hands," Fin reminds her.

"Fine," she relents.

She feels nervous, as the elevator lets her off, on her floor. Several pairs of eyes look at her, as she exits the elevator. Fin, Rollins, and Amaro follow her to the door of the apartment. She freezes, when she reaches the door. It still has crime scene tape across the front of it.

Fin turns to Rollins, "You should have taken it down," he tells her.

"The last time I was over here, was weeks ago. I packed up some clothes, for her. I was in a hurry, and I didn't have time."

Olivia unlocks the door, but she doesn't open it. She turns to her co-workers. She looks at Amanda.

"What does it look like, in there?" Olivia questions.

"The same as when you left," Amanda reveals.

Olivia exhales. Nick steps up.

"Come on," he reaches for her hand.

He pushes the door open, and leads her in. Fin carries the dozen of boxes into the apartment.

"How do you want to split this up?" Fin wonders.

"Fin, why don't you, and Nick take the kitchen, and the living room."

"What are you taking?"

"Leave the furniture," she answers.

They nod. They take a couple of boxes, and head into the kitchen. Olivia pauses, in front of her bedroom door. It's closed. She turns to Amanda. Amanda doesn't hesitate.

"Are you ready?"

"No," she shakes her head.

"It's ok," she promises.

"My bedroom looks like a crime scene," Olivia reminds her.

"I'll go first," Amanda agrees, pushing the door open. She flips on the light, and looks around the room. It doesn't look like a crime scene, at all. She turns to Olivia, with a furrowed brow.

"What?"

Nick leaves the kitchen, for a moment. "I'm sorry, I know I crossed a line," he begins.

"What are you talking about?"

"I didn't want you to come home to a crime scene, so I hired a cleaning service," he reveals, "I had the key, when I was driving Fin's car, the day mine was in the shop."

Olivia doesn't say anything. Nick retreats. Olivia turns, and stands in the doorway, unmoved. She stares in the room. Amanda waits for her, with a pile of boxes.

Olivia looks around the room. The bed is made, with clean linens. The floor has been cleaned. There are no blood stains, anywhere. Not on the wall, or the floor, or the furniture. She turns, and hollers at Nick.

"What cleaning service did you use?"

"Crime scene clean up," he admits, "one of the guys owed me a favor."

She turns, back, to Amanda. Amanda shakes her head.

"I would hate to cross him. They did a good job. Where do you want to start?"

"I bought a new bed, and linens, so that can all stay. The lamps, and all of the furniture can stay, too."

"So, mostly just clothes, and toiletries?"

"Yeah."

"Are you going to come in?"

Olivia takes a step into the room. She feels uneasy, as she enters the room. Amanda heads towards the closet.

"You have a lot of shoes," she comments, trying to keep the conversation light.

Olivia enters the closet. She sits down, on the floor. Amanda stops, and sits the box she's using down. She takes a seat, on the floor, with her.

"You don't have to avoid the subject, all of the time," Olivia tells her.

Rollins says nothing.

"I have been back, for two weeks. No one says anything to me, about it."

"You didn't bring it up," Amanda points out.

"Everyone knows what happened."

"I just figured that you didn't want to talk about it."

"We work SVU. We are around rape every single day, of every week. You guys pretending that it didn't happen... it doesn't mean that I can, even if I wanted to."

"What happened to you, is unimaginable."

"You have no idea."

"So," she exhales, "tell me."

"I don't sleep, much. I can't. I am afraid to fall asleep, even though I know that Fin is just in the next room. I didn't want to come back here, to this apartment, to this room. I spent sixty hours in that room," she swallows hard, "in a living hell. I didn't know if I was going to make it out. I don't even what to know what else he had planned. I don't want to think about how long he would have stayed, if Fin didn't show up," her lip quivers.

"Have you been seeing a therapist?"

She nods, "It isn't that helpful. She doesn't understand. No one understands," the tears start to fall.

Rollins looks at her. She has the question, on the tip of her tongue, but she won't ask it.

"If there is something that you want to ask, go ahead," Olivia tells her.

"It doesn't matter."

"I have to tell a courtroom full of people what happened to me. A lot of them will be people that I know, that I work with, every single day. The others will be members of a jury, who are complete strangers. If I can't answer your question, how am I supposed to be able to handle the defense attorney's questions? I am sure that they will be a lot worse."

"He was with you, for sixty hours. How many times, did he..." Rollins trails off.

"Twelve," she admits.

"How can you come back to work, and face, what we face, every single day, after what happened?"

She wipes the tears from her eyes. "Because every two minutes someone is the victim of sexual assault. Someone has to speak for them. Someone has to be there for them."


	14. Trial

Alex sits at the table, in Olivia's new apartment. It's been months, since the attack.

"Do you want to go over your testimony, anymore? Tomorrow is the start of the trial."

"No," she shakes her head. Her bruises are now healed. The gash to her head, is nothing more than a tiny line, on the back of her head. Her cracked rib has repaired itself.

"You're sure?"

"Alex, I have started to sleep, for more than an hour at a time. I don't want to go over it, this late, at night."

"I thought that you were sleeping."

"When I was staying with Fin, I was sleeping for a few hours, at a time."

"And now?"

"Two, at the most. I used to enjoy being alone. I like calm, and quiet, when I sleep. I can't stand someone in the apartment, snoring, while I'm trying to sleep."

"But, if someone is snoring, you know that you're not alone."

"I have to get back to my life, at some point."

"How is therapy, going?"

"Slow."

"This new apartment is great," Alex comments.

"Hopefully I exceed the life expectancy of the other owners."

"What does that mean?"

"Nothing," she shakes her head.

"So, I have to prepare you."

"For what?"

"He has a tracheostomy, now. He wears an oxygen mask, over the tracheostomy."

"He is going to play the sympathy card?"

"He is definitely going to bring up the fact that Casey tried to kill him."

"In self defense."

"I know that."

"And, if she had wanted him dead, she would have killed him. Who is representing him?"

"He is representing himself."

"Shit."

"I don't like it, either. He is going to question every single move we made. He will make a million motions, and try to get the case thrown out."

"What if he succeeds?"

"He won't. We did everything, by the book."

"Did all of the other women identify him?"

"Yes."

* * *

She sits in the courtroom, behind the prosecution, just watching, and listening, for days. She hears testimony from expert witnesses. She hears testimony from other victims. She watches, and listens, for days, in horror, as the defendant represents himself. She secretly prays that he'll be sensible enough to go for a deal. He doesn't budge, trying, the entire time to convince the jury that he is innocent.

It's early, on a Friday, when she finally gets called to the stand. She feels a sense of anxiety overtake her entire body. As she approaches the stand, for a brief moment she feels as if she might actually pass out. The moment passes, but the sense of impending doom does not go away. She states her name, for the record, she raises her hand, and is sworn in. She takes her seat, and Alexandra approaches her.

"Can you tell me what happened on the night of December 31st?"

"After work, I stopped at a diner to get a bite to eat, on my way home."

"And where did you go, from there?"

"I went home."

"Straight home?"

"Yes."

"What did you do, when you got home?"

She swallows hard, "I took a shower, and went to bed."

"What time did you go to bed?"

"It was about a quarter til nine o'clock."

"And, what time did you wake up?"

"Nine oh seven."

"Nine oh seven, that seems like a pretty specific time."

"I remember, because I looked at the clock."

"So you had barely dozed off, when you woke up?"

"Yes."

"What woke you up?"

"I heard something."

"And, when you opened your eyes, what happened?"

"The defendant had his knee, in my chest," she recounts, trying to remain numb, and not lose her composure.

"What happened next?"

"I tried to get away, but I couldn't move, with his knee on my chest."

"So, with you restrained what did he do, next?"

"He took off his belt, and he put it around my arm. He pulled out a syringe, and injected me with something."

"Then what happened?"

"He took out zip ties, and tethered my wrists to the headboard," she recalls, "then he put duct tape on my mouth.""The jury is probably wondering why you didn't fight back. You are a veteran cop, you have dealt with several situations, where you had to defend yourself."

"I couldn't. I wanted to, but after he injected me, my muscles were like jello."

"After he bound you, and put duct tape over your mouth, what happened?"

She swallows hard, holding back her tears, "He raped me."

"How long was he in your apartment, with you?" Alex quizzes.

"About sixty hours."

"How many times did he rape you in that amount of time?"

"Twelve."

Alex heads for the large screen TV, at the side of the courtroom, on a cart. The bailiff rolls it towards her. There is a laptop connected to it. The screen saver is an NYPD background. She takes the remote, in her hand.

"I would like to warn the courtroom that the images I am about to show will be difficult to look out. We have hear testimony from several different victims. They have recounted the details of what happened to them. I am not sure, that the members of the jury fully understand what he did to these women."

She clicks through the pictures, one by one. Each picture more horrific than the last. There is an audible gasp, from the jury.


	15. Don't Wanna Talk About It

Olivia walks out of the courtroom, after her testimony. She desperately wants to go home and shower. Not only has her day been filled with thoughts of her own rape, but the rape of over a dozen other women. The images of the pictures shown, but Cabot, run through her head. She knows, from her own pictures that Alex didn't even show the worst ones. She didn't show the most graphic, horrific photos.

He finds her, on the steps of the courthouse. He can tell that she's about ready, to break down.

"Liv," he says softly, as he approaches her.

"Fin, I am just going to go home."

"Let me take you," he offers.

She nods in agreement. They're in his car, a few minutes later, stopped at a stop light. He looks over at her. She stares out the window, trying to distract herself.

"You ok?"

She looks over at him. She swallows hard, "I am not sure that I am ever going to be ok."

"You can talk to me," he reminds her.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"You didn't say much, on the stand."

"Fin, nobody really wants to hear what I went through."

"You know, Olivia I took your statement, and you left out a lot."

"I know that."

"And, I am your friend. I am here for you."

She shakes her head, on the verge of tears, "Nobody wants to hear, in graphic detail, what happened to me."

"Olivia, how are you ever going to move on, if you can't even talk about it?"

"I wish that I knew."

"You can talk to me, I will listen," he promises.

"In my mind, I replay it, on loop, all the time. Sometimes, I wake up in the middle of the night, and I have to remind myself where I am. It's like I can't breathe. It's like I'm right back their, with someone's knee in my chest. I look into his eyes, and I know that there is nothing I can do to stop it. I know what is about to happen, and there is nothing that I can do. And, I hate myself for that."

"Liv, you didn't do anything wrong."

"I should have killed him."

"Then you would have to carry that around with you, for the rest of your life."

"I am going to have scars, for the rest of my life. Some you can see, and some no one ever will."

"Scars heal."

"You don't know what it's like."

"I know. I wasn't there. I feel guilty. I should have been there, sooner. I should have known something was wrong, all along."

"There is no way that you could have."

"My gut said that there was something that wasn't right."

"Nobody blames you."

"Liv, nobody blames you, either."

"I am a cop. I work special victims. If anyone should have been able to stop it, it should have been me."

"Don't go down that road."

"How can I not?" she asks on the verge of tears, as her voice cracks.

"Just don't," he begs.

"Someone came into my apartment, and drugged me. He held me at knife point. He hit me with my own gun. He was inside of me, not just once. He raped me, twelve times. He was in that room with me, for sixty hours. I don't know how not to go down that road. I don't know how to be ok. I don't know if I ever will be."

"Just don't shut us all out. Olivia, I am here for you, no matter what. Don't forget that."

* * *

The trial lasts for weeks. Finally the jury convicts, sentencing to life without the possibility of parole. Olivia is at work, when Alex calls to tell her the news.

Olivia returns from the crime scene. Hours later, she, and Amanda throw their suspect in interrogation. Olivia is getting ready to enter the room, when the captain pulls her aside.

"Liv, wait a minute," he says softly.

"Captain, we're about to interview the suspect," she reminds him.

"I want to tell you something," he reveals.

"Can it wait?"

"Yeah," he nods.

She finishes her interrogation with the suspect, six hours later. When she exits the room, the uniformed officer takes the suspect. Amanda follows her out of the squad room. Olivia heads to her desk.

"I'm ready to go home, how about you?" she looks in Amanda's directions.

"The boys must have left already," Amanda looks at her watch, "Seven o'clock, on a Monday night? That never happens? I wonder where they went."

The Captain comes out of his office.

"Where is everybody?" Rollins questions.

"They're working another case."

"All of them?" Olivia raises an eyebrow.

"Have a seat," he insists.

"I'm getting ready to go home," she argues.

"Sit down," he tells her, in a more firm tone.

She takes a seat, at her desk. She shakes her head, "Why am I sitting?"

"There is something I need to tell you."

"Ok," she nods.

"Bradley Haper was attacked."

"Is he dead?" Olivia hopes.

"He was stabbed, repeatedly, after being raped, and sodomized," Cragen reveals.

Olivia doesn't say anything.

"Is he dead?" Amanda repeats Olivia's question.

"No. They sent him to the hospital. They're keeping him over night. They had to do emergency surgery, to remove his ruptured spleen," Cragen adds.

"Why are you telling me?" Olivia quizzes.

"Because after he came out of surgery, and the anesthesia wore off, he attempted to escape."

"Son of a bitch," Olivia grits her teeth.

"He's got two armed guards in his hospital room, and two on the door. Alex is in court, now," Cragen tells her.

"For, what?" Amanda furrows her brow.

"His lawyer wants him to be moved to a medical facility, where he isn't in general population."

Olivia shakes her head, in disbelief, "And, lower security? Unbelievable." She pushes her chair out. She grabs her bag, and then her coat. Amanda heads her off, at the door.

"Where are you going?"

"To find Alex."

She finds Alex leaving the chambers of judge Petrovsky. Amanda waits outside the courtroom, with her.

"Cragen told you?" Alex guesses.

Olivia nods.

"The judge denied the request."

"He's in the hospital, who is representing him?" Amanda wonders.

"A law student who interned for him," Alex explains.

"I can't imagine that anyone would represent him," Amanda comments.

"I could tell that she wasn't doing by choice."

Olivia's eyes widen, "You think that he was black-mailing her?"

"I wouldn't put it past him, would you?" Alex answers.

"This nightmare is never going to end, is it?"

"Come on, I'll take you home," Amanda offers.

Olivia shakes her head, "No. I am a grown woman. I can take myself home. I do not need a babysitter, all of the time. I am sick of everyone treating me, like I am going to break. I'm going home," she fumes.


	16. Six Feet From the Edge

She storms out of the courthouse. Amanda turns to Alexandra.

"I'm worried about her. She won't let anyone in," Amanda comments.

"Me, too."

"How do we help her?"

"If we wait for her to ask for help, we never will."

"I feel she could snap, at any minute. I don't know if I can keep her from doing that. I don't know how to keep her safe, when she has a gun, in her hands."

"Or a bottle," Alex says under her breath.

"You know something that I don't? Has she been drinking?"

Alex shakes her head, "Not that I'm aware of. Olivia is strong-willed."

"But?"

"She has a genetic pre-disposition to alcoholism. Her mother was an alcoholic."

"Her father was a rapist, what's your point?"

"Olivia became a cop, because she didn't want to be like her mother."

"She didn't want to look weak? I get it."

"She never wanted to be a victim," Alex points out, "Now she is. I can see that it is messing with her head."

"You think that she's ready to crack?"

"I think that she needs help."

"She says that she's getting it," Amanda reveals.

"You believe her?"

"You think that I shouldn't?"

"Do you know why she was partners with Elliot, for so long?"

"Because they had chemistry?" Amanda raises her eyebrow.

"Because they're more alike than they are different. She has a temper too, hers is just more controlled. She likes to appear in control, an she has had years of practice. They both take whatever happens in their lives, and they just shove it way down, inside. They don't talk about things. They just let them fester."

"Until they explode?"

"Yeah," Alex nods.

"Should I call him?"

"Elliot?"

"Do you think that he can help her?"

Alex shrugs, "I don't know. She still feels abandoned by him."

"I get it. Until he came along, all of the important people in her life abandoned her. He was her partner, for twelve years. But, then he did, too."

"Exactly. I don't think, that she trusts him, like she used to."

"Does she even talk to him, anymore?"

"I have no idea. She has a tendency to cut out the people in her life, that hurt her."

"Maybe Fin can talk to her. He seems to be able to get through to her."

"He's old school, that's why she trusts him. She knows that no matter where he goes, even if it was to China, he would have her back. That is just the kind of guy he is."

"I am going to go see, if I can talk to her."

"Don't. Let it go, for now. Talk to her, in the morning."

"I have no idea what to say to her," Amanda admits.

"Just tell her the truth."

"And if that doesn't work?"

"Just listen."

"Ok," Amanda nods.

* * *

Olivia makes it home. She locks the door, behind herself. She tosses her gun, and badge on the coffee table. It was no use, even if it was right next to her. She grabs some clean clothes, and heads into the bathroom. She slides into a bubble bath. She lies there, just listening to the bubbles pop. Her hair is in a clip. As she stares at her painted toe nails, her hands subconsciously moves to the scar, on the back of her head. It rest there, for a while, before she realizes what she's doing.

In the morning, after a restless night of sleep, she heads to work. When she exits her building, she finds Amanda waiting on her, with a cup of warm green tea.

"What are you doing here? Are you checking up on me? You could have just waited, until I got to work?"

"Because we have somewhere to go."

"Yeah, work."

Amanda offers the cup to her, "Here."

"You're trying to bribe me, with a cup of green tea?"

"No."

"Then what are you trying to do?"

"I am just trying to talk to you."

"I don't have anything to talk about," Olivia argues.

"You have a lot to talk about, you just won't."

"Why are you so insistent? Why does it matter?"

"Because, you are supposed to have my back. How am I supposed to know that you do, when I don't know where your head is?" Amanda questions, as they get into the car.

"My head is just fine," Olivia argues, climbing into the passenger's seat.

"I don't believe you."

"You don't have to," Olivia reminds her.

"Have you been going to your therapist?"

"That isn't any of your business," she says, angrily, as she looks out the window.

"Look, I get it, if you don't want to talk to me. You don't even want me as your partner. I can get over that, too. But, you have to talk to someone. Olivia, you can't just pretend that it didn't happen. You have to deal with it."

"I never said that I didn't want you as my partner."

"You didn't have to."

Olivia turns, and looks at Amanda. She swallows hard, "I am sorry, that I made you feel unwelcome. That was never my intention. I am also sorry that you feel like I am shutting you out. It's just, that what happened was..." she trails off.

"Traumatizing," Amanda supplies.

"And, trust me, you don't want to hear all the details."

* * *

She sits in a chair, silently. She tries to wait, for her time to run out. The person across the room comes at her, with another question.

"Why are you here?"

"You know why I'm here," Olivia answers.

"I know what happened. That isn't what I'm asking. I am asking you, what made you decide to come see me," the woman clarifies.

"My partner made a good point."

"And, what is that?"

"That I had to talk to someone, even if it wasn't her. I promised her, that I would talk to someone, so here, I am."

"And how long did it take you, to make good, on that promise?" the psychiatrist asks her, out of curiosity.

"A while."

"How long ago was your rape?"

"Why are you asking me that? You already know that. Everybody knows."

"Olivia," she argues, "not everybody knows."

"You're right, not everyone in the world knows."

"But?"

"A lot of people know. It is a matter of public record. Besides that, every member of NYPD knows what happened. They all were involved, in some way. They helped look for him, or they worked with one of the other women."

"You're angry."

She nods, "I think that I have a right to be."

"Who are you angry at?"

Olivia looks her in the eyes, "These days," she grits her teeth, "everybody."

"Who are you the most angry at?"

"This is a waste of my time," Olivia tries to get up, and leave.

"Sit down."


	17. Pushing Back

Olivia's nostrils flare, as she returns to her seat.

"I asked you a question. You spent forty five minutes of your session talking about everything, but what you came to talk about. I don't care if you want to waste my time, I get paid by the hour. I think it is unfortunate, however, that you are wasting your time, by avoiding my questions."

"I am not ready to talk about it."

"Olivia, it has been over four months. You should have been on that couch, four months ago."

"I didn't want to come."

"I know. I saw that your partner dragged you here, against your will. We have ten minutes left, just answer some of my questions."

"Fine," she agrees.

"Who are you the angriest, at?"

She exhales, "Myself."

"Yourself?"

"Wouldn't you be?"

"You think that it is your fault?"

"I think a lot of things."

"Tell me what you did, that makes you so angry?"

Olivia blinks, and looks away, "I spent my entire life, trying to be..."

"Invincible?" the therapist supplies.

Olivia shakes her head, "A better person. I have spent my whole life, trying not to be like her."

"Like who?"

"My mother," she admits.

"You're not like her."

"I couldn't understand, even though I have worked SVU, for so long. I just could never understand how she let that happen."

"She didn't let it happen."

"I know that."

"What makes you feel like her?"

"I am angry, all of the time. When I get home, I just want to drown, in a bottle of tequila, bourbon, whatever, it doesn't matter."

"Have you been drinking?"

"I can't keep any alcohol in the house. I know that if I take, even one drink, it's a slippery slope."

"You don't trust yourself."

"For good reason. I know that if I started to drink, now, I would likely never be able to get sober. I know that I would spend the rest of my life, a miserable alcoholic."

"You're miserable now," the therapist points out.

"I'm not dragging anyone down with me."

"Have you ever considered what happened to the people around you, when you were the victim of a violent crime? Did you ever consider why all of them keep pushing you? Why they wanted you to come here?"

"No."

"They just want you to be able to live your life, again."

"I don't know how to do that."

"Stop hiding."

"I..."

She calls Olivia out, "Stop hiding from the truth. Let them help you. Needing help doesn't make you weak. Being raped, does not make you weak. Never recovering from it, that would mean you just gave up. Is that what you want?"

Olivia doesn't say anything.

"You have always had to fight for the things that you want, right?"

She nods.

"What's different, now? You are going to have to fight, to recover. It is going to take time. It is going to be hard work. It's your choice. You can give up, or you can fight."

"I am just so tired, of fighting."

"Then find a reason to fight for."

She shakes her head, "I don't have any, anymore."

"What about your job? What about your friends?"

"I spend every day, at my job, catching rapist, and putting them in prison. The longer I work, the more I realize that what I'm doing, doesn't make a difference. For every one of them, there are ten more out there."

"Think about all of the crimes you prevented."

"I think about, all of the pain, that could have been prevented, if I had been able to catch that bastard, when I arrested him. This never would have happened. Thirteen other women wouldn't have been brutally raped, and tortured."

Olivia exits the therapist's office. When she comes out, Amanda is still waiting on her. She brushes past her, avoiding the receptionist, and heads for the door. Amanda tosses the magazine she's reading on the coffee table, and vacates her seat. She follows after her partner.

"Where's the fire?" Amanda questions.

Olivia purses her lips, and clenches her jaw, as they reach the sidewalk. She shakes her head. Her nostrils flare, in anger.

"I cannot believe you. You dragged me out of bed, at seven o'clock this morning, on my day off, so I could see a shrink? You really crossed a line," Olivia seethes.

"I'm sorry, but it was something you needed to do."

"Really? I think that I should be the judge of that, not you."

"You wouldn't get help. What was I supposed to do? What would you do?" Amanda raises her voice, "If your partner was drowning, would you just watch from the sidelines, or would you throw out a live preserver? I know that you don't like it, but you'll get over it. You can be angry at me, for as long as you want, but I did the right thing. I did something, that I know, if the situation was reversed, you would do for me."

"As much as I would love to talk about this, I have to go."

"Where do you have to go? It's your day off?"

"I have another appointment, and" she looks at her watch, "I'm going to be late."

"I'll go with you," Amanda offers.

"I have spent enough quality time with you, for one day," Olivia argues.

"Please, I feel bad. I'll wait in the waiting room. I'll buy you lunch."

"You don't want to go with me," Olivia argues.

"What kind of appointment do you have? A dentist appointment?"

"I have an appointment to get the results of my lab work."

"What lab work?"


	18. Angry

Olivia shakes her head, "The one that tests for STD's, and HIV."

"Oh."

"So, if you want to go with me, be my guest."

"I don't have any other plans."

"Does the Captain know why you requested the same day off, as I did?"

Amanda breaks eye contact, "He's the one who suggested it."

"Unbelievable," Olivia mutters under her breath, shaking her head.

"Do you want to stand out here, and argue with me, or would you like to go?"

Olivia climbs into the driver's seat of the car. Amanda barely has the door closed, when they pull away from the curb.

"You know I'm glad that I never had a younger sister, because if she was anything like you, I would have murdered her."

"No you wouldn't."

"Why not?"

"Because you know that I'm right. I am taking a page out of your book."

"My book? I don't think so."

"Olivia, I've learned a lot from you."

"Whatever."

"Like when your partner is in trouble, you have their back, even when they don't want you to. I am sorry that you feel I crossed a line, but I would do it again."

"Then you aren't sorry," Olivia argues.

"Just talk to me."

"What do you want me to say? Do you want me to tell you that I'm all better? I can't do that. I'm not all better."

"I just want you to talk to me. What would it hurt, for you to talk to me? Other than your pride?"

"I don't want to recount the details, with you."

"I am not asking you to."

"What are you asking me?"

"I am just asking you to stop being so angry at me. I didn't do anything to you. Why can't you just tell me what you're feeling? Would that kill you?"

"No, probably not."

"And if you're having a bad day, maybe I can help."

"How can you help, me? Most of my days are bad."

"When I get really angry, I go to a kick-boxing class."

"I just want to punch someone."

"We could take a boxing class, together."

"Why do you want to do things, together? We spend lots of hours together, at work."

"Because, like it, or not, I'm your partner now. It's my job to look out for you. If your world is falling apart, outside of work, how am I supposed to keep you together, on the job?"

"It's not your job, to keep me together."

"You nearly hit a suspect, with the car, intentionally, two days ago."

"We were pursuing him."

"He probably deserved it, but that isn't the point."

"You're right," she admits.

* * *

Five minutes later they arrive that their destination. Olivia gets out of the car. Amanda follows her into the doctor's office. Olivia checks in, at the receptionist's desk. Amanda takes a seat, and picks up a magazine. Olivia takes a seat next to her. In less than five minutes her name is called. The nurse takes her to another room.

Amanda sits in the waiting room, reading. She finishes one magazine, and moves onto the next. By magazine three, she is checking her watch. She watches the doorway, waiting for Olivia to appear. She sighs, and picks up a fourth magazine. She reads slower this time, hoping to help pass the time. An hour later, Amanda approaches the receptionist.

"What's taking so long?" she questions.

The receptionist shrugs, "I don't know."

"Does it usually take this long, for lab results?"

"The doctor is usually in and out in a maximum of ten minutes."

"Is she still back there?"

"There is only one way out of this office," she responds.

"Are there windows?"

"Ma'am we're three stories up," she reminds her.

"Ok," she nods, and returns to her seat.

Fifteen minutes later, Olivia comes out, into the waiting room. Amanda looks up, and notices that she is visibly upset.

"What happened? Are you ok?"

Olivia tosses her the keys. She sniffles. "Can we just go?"

"Yeah," Amanda nods.

Olivia races out of the office, with a tear stained face. When they get into the car, Amanda turns to her. She looks out the window, and refuses to make eye contact.

"Bad news?"

"Isn't it all?" Olivia retorts.

She sits across the table, from her partner. Amanda slowly chews. Olivia just stares at her food, in silence. She looks at the plate, to keep from making eye contact. Amanda takes a drink, and swallows.

"Why did you wait so long?"

"For what?" Olivia questions.

"To get tested."

"I went two weeks, afterwards, but it takes longer for some of the things to show up," Olivia reminds her.

"Not four months," Amanda points out.

"I just didn't want to know," she admits.

"I know that you don't sleep much. You barely eat, anymore. It's like you've just shut down. You don't go out. You just lock yourself in your apartment, and... I'm not sure what you do, there."

"I wait," Olivia admits.

"For what?"

"The apartment to work."

"You're not going to die, because you moved into that apartment."

"The last eight tenants did."

"That doesn't mean anything," Amanda argues.

"Fine."

"Have you thought about it?"

"About what?" Olivia wonders, still not making eye contact.

"Hurting yourself."

"What would be the point of that? I am already broken."

"Have you?" Amanda pushes.

"If you're asking me, have I thought about putting my gun to my head, and pulling the trigger, yeah," she nods, "Unfortunately the thought has crossed my mind."

"What stops you?"

"First of all, then he wins."

"Secondly?"

"Fin would find me, and I couldn't put him through that. I have put him through enough, already. He has seem me through, more than any friend should ever have to."

"If you want to break down, that's ok."

"We are in the middle of a restaurant," Olivia reminds her.

"We can leave."

"I don't think that you understand. Amanda, I don't feel, anything, anymore. I am just numb. I don't feel sympathy, I don't feel anything, other than numb."

"And, angry," Amanda adds.


	19. Comfortably Numb

"Most of the time, I'm just numb. I wake every day, and I wonder how I am going to get through that day. I wonder to myself, what is the point? I'm not helping anybody. I'm not changing the world. I am just going through the motions."

"What happened to him?"

"Who?"

"Before the rape, there was someone, that you were seeing. What happened to him?"

"The same thing that happens to all of them."

"You pushed him away, before he could get too close. You made him leave, before he got close enough to see that you're only human, and that you have scars, too."

She doesn't say anything.

"You didn't make a follow-up appointment, with the psychiatrist."

"You're not my keeper," Olivia points out.

"If you don't make one, I'll drag your ass out of bed, on your next day off, and take you back."

"I don't need any days off. What's the point? It's not as if I am actually going to do anything. It's better for me to be at work, at least I have the potential, to contribute something."

"What the hell happened to you?"

She clenches her jaw, "You know what happened to me."

"That isn't what I meant. At what point, during all of this, did you just decide to give up. You aren't trying."

"I am tired of fighting," she grits her teeth.

"So you're going to be one of them," Amanda confronts her.

"One, of who?"

"The bitter ones, who never moves on. One of the ones who can't let go, because they blame themselves. You're just going to let him have your whole life? Just like that? You're going to let him take everything, that ever mattered? You are going to let him steal all of your hopes, and dreams? I know that it isn't easy. I can't imagine how difficult it is, but I know you can't just give up," Amanda says, harshly.

"My dreams? Amanda my dreams are never going to happen."

"I don't know what's worse, the fact that you can't trust yourself, or the fact that you refuse to ever trust anyone else, again."

"Can we go?" she begs.

"Go where? Olivia you can't run from this."

"Don't you think that I know that? No matter how hard I try, I can't get away from it. Everyday, I look at myself in the mirror, and I don't recognize the person staring back at me. I don't know who she is. I just know that the person she used to be, is gone. I wake up, in the middle of the night, in a panic, because he might get out. He might come back. I know that it's irrational, but it doesn't matter. I don't sleep more than two hours, at a time. I am so tired. I just want to be able to sleep through the night, once. I want to be able to wake up, and not have the first thought that pops into my mind, be about being raped."

"I know."

"In the morning, I go to brush my hair, and fingers find the scar on the back of my head. I can't see it, and I can barely feel it, anymore. But, still I know that it's there. When I get dressed, in the morning, sometimes my shoulder pops. It's just another reminder. No matter where I go, I can't get away from it."

"Then maybe, it's time to face it."

"Let's go," she insists.

* * *

Amanda nods. She drives Olivia back to her apartment. She hands Olivia the keys. She gets out of the car. Olivia turns, and looks at her.

"I assume that you want me to go."

Olivia furrows her brow, "Don't," she says in a small voice.

Amanda just nods in agreement, through her own confusion. She follows her into the apartment. When they get inside, Amanda watches, as Olivia ritualistically locks each lock. Amanda counts, with each click. Seven locks, and chain.

"He didn't come through the door, I don't know why I have so many," she swallows hard.

"It's a coping mechanism."

Olivia looks at her. She feels overwhelmed. Her lip quivers. Her eyes betray her. Her face turns red. Her eyes fill with tears. Then, they betray her. They spill, down her cheeks. Her cheeks sting. She swallows hard.

"I can't do this."

Amanda coaxes her to the couch. She takes a seat, next to her.

"Do what?" Amanda questions.

"I just, I can't do any of this, anymore," Olivia admits.

"What do you mean, by any of this?"

"I want to be ok. I want to pretend that none of this ever happened, but I can't."

"I know."

"I go to work, every single day, and I can't escape it."

"Liv, I know. Maybe you need to take some time."

"I don't need anymore time. Time isn't going to fix anything."

"What can I do?"

"There is nothing you can do. Everybody wants to fix me. Did it ever occur to you, that maybe I am broken, and I can't be fixed? Sometimes..." Olivia rants.

Amanda cuts her off, "No."

"No?"

"Olivia, I never considered that."

"Why not?"

"I won't give up that easily. I thought that you were the type of person who never gave up. If you're giving up, this easily, I think I may have misjudged you."

"Are you kidding me, right now? I am not giving up, this easily. Amanda none of this has been easy. You have no idea what I have been through. You may think that you do, but you weren't there. It was hell."

"And, sometimes, it seems like you're still there. Olivia, you're not. You're alive, and..."

"Alive? I made it out alive, so I should be happy?"

"That is not what I meant, and you know it," Amanda argues.

"What did you mean?"

"Come back to us," Amanda begs.

Olivia blinks away tears, "I don't know how to."

"I want to help you."

"No one can help me! Don't you get it? Nobody can help me. I don't even know if I can help myself."

"Just don't give up."

"That is easy for you to say. Everyday, I find one more reason that it would be easier to give up. It's like, just when I think, I might be able to take a step forward, I find out something, that sets me back, ten. I just, I don't know if I can do this anymore. I don't know if I want to."

"Olivia, you don't mean that."


	20. Haunted

Olivia stares at the area rug, that covers up the stain, on the floor.

"She died, here, alone," Olivia tells her.

"You told me. You've shown me. I don't want to talk about that."

Olivia makes eye contact, briefly. "I don't want to talk about this. What if I end up, like her?"

"Olivia, that isn't going to happen. I want you to tell me what happened, today," Amanda shifts gears.

"I can't."

"What took you so long? It shouldn't have taken more than fifteen minutes."

"I know."

"You got bad news?"

She nods, in confirmation, as the tears continue to flow.

"You have an STD?"

"No," she admits. "Worse."

"HIV?"

"Worse," Olivia repeats.

"Worse? The only thing worse is AIDS. I..."

"No," Olivia shakes her head.

"I don't understand."

"Neither do I," she admits.

"What do you mean?"

"There are a lot of things, that I don't understand, and this is one of them," Olivia clarifies.

"How so?"

"What if he planned..." she trails off.

"Planned what? Olivia, what are you talking about?"

"It doesn't matter, you should go."

"I'm not going anywhere."

"Why not?"

"Because, I can tell by the look in your eyes, that your about to go over the edge. I don't want to wake up, to a call tomorrow morning, that you splattered your brains all over the living room wall."

"I wouldn't..."

"Did you ever get those prescriptions filled?" Amanda queries.

"For what?"

"Sleeping pills, and anti-anxiety meds?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I think like a cop. I have thought about, what you're thinking right now."

"Alcohol?"

"There isn't any here, other than what is in my bottle of mouth wash."

"You know that I'm not going to leave."

"What do you want me to say?"

"Do you think that telling me, is going to make me go away?"

Olivia shrugs, "You're worse than a cockroach. Nothing I do to get rid of you seems to work."

"There is a reason for that."

"I know."

Amanda knows better, than to push any harder. She relents, "Let's talk about something else," she suggests.

"Like what? The stain on the floor?"

"Why are you so obsessed with the stain? Does she haunt you, or something?"

"I haven't seen her."

"Have you heard her?"

Olivia doesn't say anything.

"You've heard her?"

"Not exactly."

"But?"

"She died in a rocking chair. Sometimes in the middle of the night, it sounds like someone is rocking back, and fourth, in here."

"Is there a rocking chair?"

"No."

"Why would you even think about it?"

"You think about a lot of things, at two o'clock in the morning, when you're wide awake."

"Why don't you just get up, and watch some TV?"

"After seeing the same infomercial, twenty times, you give up on TV."

"What do you do?"

"Lay in bed, wide awake."

"You just lay there?"

"No," she shakes her head, "That is just how it ends up. After I have read my book, and finished my chamomile tea, and checked all the doors, and windows, at least five times, I end up lying in bed, wide awake. One night, I even came in here."

"To watch TV?"

"I have one in the bedroom."

"To do what? See if your ghost would rock you to sleep?" Amanda jokes, trying to lighten the mood.

"To try and get rid of the stain. It didn't work."

"Oh."

"But, maybe next time, I'll see if she would mind," Olivia teases.

"I don't think that it could hurt anything."

"Probably not."

"You didn't eat anything, can I make you something?" Amanda offers.

"I'm not hungry."

"You have to eat, something."

"Not now," she shakes her head.

"Ok," Amanda nods.

"I'll be ok, if you want to go," Olivia reassures her.

"First off, I have nowhere I need to be. Second off, you're lying."

Olivia's glance falls. She avoids eye contact, with her partner. She takes a deep breath, trying to delay the inevitable. She can't stop it. She begins to sob. Amanda hugs her, tightly.

"It's ok," she reassures her.

"It's never going to be ok," Olivia argues.

"You don't know that," Amanda argues.

"I don't want to do this," she begins to hyperventilate.

Amanda lets go. She looks at Olivia. Olivia still refuses to look at her. There are dark circles under her eyes. Her face is tear stained, and bright red. Her expression is one of fear, and confusion.

"Do what?" Amanda wonders, "You keep saying that. Obviously, I am missing something. What can't you do?"


	21. Hell At Home

Olivia doesn't answer her. She stares at the stain, on the floor. The wheels in her head turn, as the tears trickle down her cheek. Amanda looks over, at her. She can see that Olivia is emotionally drained, and completely exhausted. She sees the dark circles under her eyes, reminding her, that her partner probably hasn't slept in months. At least not for more than a couple of hours, at a time. Olivia avoids making eye contact, as if it's the plague. Amanda can see that there is something more, something that Olivia is holding back. The light bulb flickers, in her head.

Suddenly it hits her, like a ton of bricks. Amanda swallows hard, she too fights the urge to cry. In an instant, she feels sick to her stomach. She finds it difficult to look at her partner. Her mind races, thinking of the possibility. Her nostrils flare, in anger, but she tries to maintain self control, for Olivia's sake. But, she can't control her thoughts.

The only thing worse, than knowing you could die, from a terrible disease. The only thing worse than death, was living. Living, and knowing... that despite everything you did, it wasn't enough. That when you were broken, and ready to give up, there was something, that would push you far enough, to do it. It's that moment, when you become the person, that you never wanted to be. The one person, you vowed, never to become.

Olivia can't look at her, she just stares at the rug. Amanda's eyes, fall, too. She goes to the place on the floor, that is covered by the rug. The place, she knows hides the stain. The stain, is kind of like a scar. You can cover it up, but you can never truly hide it. It's always there. No matter, what you try, it will never go away. No matter how hard you try to scrub it away, it doesn't go anywhere. It is something, inescapable. It's a visual reminder, of a painful past, you want so desperately to forget. The stain, is like, a single moment, that will change your life, forever.

Amanda takes a deep breath. She tries to come up, with the best way to ask. She swallows down, her own urge to vomit, as her stomach twists into knots. Finally she decides, the best way, is just to do it. She realizes there is no best way, only the way that it comes out.

"You're pregnant," she says, in a small voice, more of a statement, than a question.

Olivia doesn't say a word. She continues to look at the rug. It reminds her of her own life. To the naked eye, no one would pick up, on the flaw, at least, at first. After a while, though, you peel back the rug, or, in her case, a thick layer of denial, and there it is. No matter how you try to cover it up, it's still there. Even when you try to forget, or deny it, you can't.

She swallows down her feelings. Her mind begins to wonder, about the lady, who left the stain. She chooses this topic, instead of one, too close to home. She contemplates what secrets the woman had been hiding. What had happened, that night, that the stain got there. Were her secrets too much? Was the rumor true? Was the apartment cursed? She shakes the thought, because dying, would be better, than this.

"Olivia?" Amanda calls out.

Olivia looks up. She sees Amanda's face. She sees that Amanda is close to the verge of tears, herself.

"Hm?" she returns to reality.

"You're pregnant?"

Olivia simply nods, numbly.

"How long have you known?" Amanda investigates.

Olivia swallows hard, in disbelief, and shock, "Since this morning."

"And, not before?"

"Amanda, I am forty-five years old. It was the last thing on my mind," she says, with a hint of disgust in her voice.

"Not the last," Amanda corrects.

"Close to it."

"You're sure?"

"I would like to say that I'm not, but they ran the labs three times."

"Oh," is all Amanda can manage to say.

"Do you think that this was the plan, all along?" she wonders.

"No," Amanda responds quickly, unsure whether she is lying, or not.

"I should have known," Olivia admits.

"What are you going to do?"

"This wasn't supposed to happen."

"I know," Amanda admits.

"I don't want to deal with this."

"You have to."

"I can't..." she looks at the folded piece of paper.

"You can't, what?"

"Eighteen weeks ago, I was raped, repeatedly. I was held captive, in my own home. I thought that was the worst thing, that could ever happen, but I was wrong."

"I'm sorry."

"It's too late, for me to do anything."

"Not according to the law," Amanda reminds her.

"I can't. No matter how much I want to. Even though the thought of being pregnant turns my stomach, I can't."

"I don't understand."

"This is my worst nightmare," Olivia explains.

"So why would you want to keep the baby?"

"I don't. I don't want to keep it. I don't even really want to have it..." she trails off.

"Then don't."

"Eighteen weeks, is a long time. It's not as if it is just a couple of cells."

"So you object, because intellectually, you know it's more than just a few cells? If it was born right now, it wouldn't live."

"That isn't the point."

"How can you even consider, doing that?"

She shakes her head, "I don't know."

"Why would you want to put yourself through that? You haven't even dealt with the rape. How are you going to deal with being pregnant with your rapists baby? People will find out, eventually. Then, what? How is that going to work? How are you going to carry a baby, for nine months, and give it away? I..." she trails off.

Tears trail down Olivia's cheeks, "I don't know," she admits.

"How can you make a choice, like this, and not know why?"

"It's complicated."

"Uncomplicate it."

"My mother..."

"I know about your mother."

"I do not want to be my mother. My entire life, I wondered what my life would have been like, if she had just loved me. As an adult, I realized that wasn't really possible. I asked myself, who I would have been, if she hadn't been so selfish. Why couldn't she just give me up for adoption? Why couldn't she give me, to someone who would love me."

"You are not your mother," Amanda reminds her.

"My mother was a drunk, and..."

"You are not her. Things are not like they are, now. She didn't really have a choice, not to have you. You have a choice. You have options."

"I am angry, that this happened. I am even angrier at myself, that I couldn't stop it. I am angry this is the result, despite all of the pharmaceutical advancements. I am angry, most of the time. I don't think that it would ever go away, if I didn't do this. Maybe this is some cruel, demented way, for me to figure out how to deal with all of this."

"What do you mean?"

"Maybe it is the one good thing, that can come from it."

"I know what you're thinking."

"What's that?"

"What would have happened, if your mother never had you? I just don't know, if..."

"I should let history repeat itself?" Olivia wonders.


	22. Take Some Time

She lays there in bed, in silence, that night. She lays on her side, staring at the numbers on the display of her alarm clock. She knows that sleep will not come easily, if it comes at all. One more reason not to sleep. She lays under the covers, frozen. She tries not to move. She tries not to think, but she can't control her thoughts. Her mind wanders, right to the place she doesn't want to go.

How could this have happened? It seems so impossible, that it must be untrue. How could this possibly be real? It was so cruel, that she could not have even imagined it. She tries not to wonder, how her mother felt, all of those years ago. She can't help but wonder. It is all so unfair.

She shudders at the thought. She rolls onto her other side. She stares at the wall. She wiggles, as if trying to escape. Rationally, she knows there is no escaping. She tosses, and turns, for the next ten minutes. She rolls over, and stares at the alarm clock, again. This time she turns on the lamp, that sits next to her, on her bedside stand.

She lies on her back, staring at the ceiling. The covers are nearly up to her chin. She slowly, and deliberately rolls them down. She stops rolling, when she reaches the waistband of her pajama bottoms. She stares at her t-shirt, as if it may catch fire, at any moment.

She doesn't roll the shirt up. Instead, she just stares at her abdomen, in silence. She watches it rise, and fall, as she breathes in, and out. She tries to keep the tears at bay. Her eyes fill with them, despite her best attempts. The tears fall from her eyes, one, by one, as she thinks about this harsh, hellish reality.

Her mind goes there. Pregnant. She is pregnant. She is carrying a child, in her womb, who is the product of rape. A child that should have never come to exist. Eighteen weeks ago, she had been raped, and now as a result, she is pregnant. Eighteen weeks, and she didn't have a clue.

She wonders, if she simply chose to ignore the signs. Maybe, there just weren't any. Maybe she had been too consumed by everything else, to recognize them. She blinks away tears. She had put her faith in modern science, and it let her down.

She lifts up her shirt, and looks at her abdomen. It doesn't appear any different than usual. But, then again, running had become one of her only outlets. Sometimes, in the middle of the night, she would find herself unable to sleep. She would end up with her running shoes on, and out the door.

She stares at her stomach, afraid to touch it. She puts the shirt back down. The tears keep falling. How is it possible she didn't know? There was no morning sickness. No headaches. No tell-tale signs. Or were there? She tries to think back.

She grabs her phone off of the bedside stand. She pulls up the calendar. She goes back to the date of her rape. She moves on to the next month. Did she have a period that month? No. What about the next? She flips to the next month. Still, no. It's the first week of May, already. She flips from February, through May. She can't recall having a period, at all, since the attack.

She swallows hard. The tears come more freely, now, she has lost control of them. How could she have missed that? There was no excuse. She should have known. Now it was too late. Or was it? Maybe, Amanda was right. Maybe she shouldn't put herself through this.

Eventually, she cries herself to sleep.

* * *

She goes into the precinct, the following day, barely able to keep it together. Instead of making a beeline for her desk, she stop in front of Cragen's office. She can see him, sitting at his desk, through his window. She doesn't hesitate, for long. She raises her fist, and knocks on the door.

He looks up, and sees her standing on the other side of the door, "Come in."

She pulls the door open, and steps inside. She closes the door, behind herself. Without a word she crosses the room, to his desk. She takes a seat, in a chair, in front of him. He looks at her. He can tell, by the look on her face that something is wrong. It is obvious that she has been crying. Seconds pass as he waits for her to begin, but she doesn't. He takes the lead.

"Olivia, is everything alright?" he asks, already knowing the answer.

She shakes her head, "No," she answers solemnly.

"You need something, from me?"

She looks up at him, finally making eye contact.

"Captain, I need a few days off."

"Olivia you have a lot of time, take whatever you need. I mean that. Take as much time as you need."

"I just need a few days."

"Olivia, have you seen someone?"

"I have," she admits.

"Keep going."

"Yeah, ok."

"I know that these past few months have been hell, for you. If you need anything from me, at all, let me know. I will do whatever I can, to help you."

"You can't help me."

"Is there someone who can?"

"No."

"Ok. Why don't you go home? I'll grant your request for some time off."

* * *

After she leaves the squad room, Fin knocks on Don's door. He motions for him to come in. Fin enters the room, and closes the door. He stands in front of Cragen's desk, with his arms folded across his chest.

"Liv, alright?" he questions.

"I don't know, you tell me. She won't tell me anything," Cragen reveals.

"She doesn't say much to me, either."

"She has to talk to someone. Did Rollins get anywhere with her, yesterday?"

"You would have to ask her."

"I think there is something that she's not telling us," Cragen adds.

"With Olivia, there usually is."

"I just hope that she tells us, before it eats away at her."

"Me too. As much as I disliked cranky balls most of the time, at least she would talk to him," Fin points out.

"Why don't you see if he'll talk to her?"

"Yeah, ok," he nods.

* * *

On his way back from a crime scene, in Queens, Fin stops off at Elliot's house. He knocks on the door, half hoping that he won't be home. After a few seconds he hears footsteps coming towards the door. The door comes open.

"Fin, what are you doing here?"

"I came to ask you a favor."

"Oh?"

"It's not for me."

"What's it about?"

"It's about Olivia."


	23. Shut Down

"What about her? Is she ok?"

"I don't know," he shrugs, "She's shut down. She won't talk to anyone."

"What do you want me to do?"

"I was hoping that you would talk to her. Maybe she'll open up to you. You were her partner, for twelve years."

"I haven't spoken to her, since I left the precinct."

"El, please. You know I wouldn't be here, if I didn't have to be. This isn't for me."

"I'll see what I can do," he offers.

"That's all I am asking."

* * *

He finds himself knocking, on her door, in the middle of the day. He waits, for her to come to the door. She never does. He leaves the apartment building. Outside, he dials a number, that he knows by heart. After a couple of rings, he assumes she's probably not going to answer.

She pulls into the parking space, and puts the phone to her ear, without checking the caller I.D.

"Benson," she answers.

"Olivia?"

"Elliot?"

"I stopped by, to see you, but you weren't home."

"Why?"

"I just wanted to see how you are doing."

"Fin asked you to check up on me?"

"Yeah."

"I'm fine."

"I was hoping we could meet up, and maybe we could talk."

"Look, I don't want to talk to anyone, especially to you."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"You walked away," she reminds him.

"Not by choice," he argues.

"You walked away, and I didn't hear from you again. We were partners for twelve years, and then you just cut all ties. I didn't get a phone call. You didn't stop by, to grab a cup of coffee. Nothing."

"Olivia, I am sorry. Let me make it up to you, now."

"No. It's been two years. It's too late."

"Olivia I am sorry."

"Sorry doesn't cut it."

"I never meant to hurt you."

"You never meant to do a lot of things. Look, I have to go. I have somewhere to be, and I don't want to be late," she hangs up.

"Olivia?" he says into the phone. His face turns red, as he realizes that she's hung up on him. He puts the phone into his pocket, and he gets back into his car.

* * *

He's on his way home, when his phone rings.

"Hello?" he answers.

"Elliot, this is Fin."

"Hey."

"Did you get the chance to talk to her?"

"She wasn't home."

"Did you call her?" he wonders.

"Yeah."

"So are you going to talk with her, in person?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"She hung up on me. She's still angry with me. She doesn't want anything to do with me."

"Can you blame her?"

"No, I screwed up."

"Did you tell her that?"

"She doesn't want to see me."

"So, you're just going to let her push you away, when she needs you the most? You always were a pussy."

"What do you want me to do, sit outside her apartment, and wait for her? Then, when she gets home, force her to talk to me?"

"If that's what it takes."

"She doesn't want to talk to me."

"So you're just going to walk away, again?"

"Again? Fin I didn't walk away. I had to leave."

"That isn't how she sees it."

"Why do you care?"

"I have worked with her, for a long time. I care about her, she is a good cop, and a good friend. I am just trying to look out for her, even if you won't."

"I am not having this conversation with you."

"Whatever, man," he hangs up.

* * *

Elliot throws the phone into the other seat of the car, in anger. He grips the steering wheel, seething, as he drives.

* * *

She stands there, alone, in silence. She stares at the headstone. She tries to fight off the tears, but she knows that it is futile. A single tear trickles down her cheek.

"I don't even know why I am here. You are the last person I would ever come to, for advice."

She doesn't elicit a response, as she stands in front of her mother's headstone.

"I hoped that I would never be like you. I prayed that I would never come to understand you, but each day, I get closer. How did you do it?"

She pauses, to wipe away a tear. More take its place.

"I am never going to understand. What did I do, to deserve this? Huh? Why is this happening to me?"

She looks at the headstone, as if she should receive and answer.

"I wish that someone could just tell me, what I did so wrong in my life, to have this happen. I don't deserve this. I shouldn't have to do this. No one should have to do this. I understand why you turned to the bottle. No one should have to walk through this hell, alone. No one should have to walk through this hell, at all. I don't even know how this happened. I did everything that I was supposed to do. I took the stupid pill. Obviously it didn't work. Every morning, I wake up, and I'm still in this nightmare."


	24. More Than Scars

She sits there, in silence, on an exam table. A familiar face walks into the room. She takes a seat, on a stool, next to her. She looks at Olivia. With a single look she knows that something isn't right. Olivia wears a paper gown.

"Doesn't a technician usually do this?"

"I told her I would do it, myself," her doctor reveals.

"Why?" Olivia questions her.

"Because the look on your face tells me that you don't want congratulations, despite the fact, that I know you have wanted a child, for such a long time."

"I don't want to talk about it. Can we just get this over with, please?"

"Yes," she nods.

She squirts green gel onto Olivia's abdomen. She pushes it around, with the probe. Olivia tries to focus anywhere, but the screen, next to her. When she hears the sound of a heart beat, it is all she can do, to maintain her composure.

"We have a nice, strong, heartbeat," the doctor narrates.

Olivia doesn't say anything, as she stares at a poster, on the wall. The doctor continues her exam.

"It looks as if you're about..." she freezes. She measures twice, re-calculating, in her head.

Olivia finishes the thought for her, "Eighteen weeks."

"That can't be right," her doctor insists.

"That's what your measurements tell you, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"Is everything ok?"

"Everything looks fine. The baby appears to be growing on track. It looks healthy."

"Ok."

"Do you want to know the sex?"

"No."

"You're sure?"

"Very."

"Olivia, I'm sorry."

Olivia's curiosity overtakes her. She turns, and looks at the screen. She is confronted with an image. She stares at the picture, on the screen. The picture of the fetus growing inside of her. The tears start to fall. The doctor hands her a tissue.

"Do you want to do any genetic testing? I recommend it to..."

"No. It doesn't matter."

"You're sure?"

"Are we done?"

"Yes," she confirms.

* * *

When she gets home, she feels numb. She sits on the couch, with a black, and white print out. She stares at it, as she sobs, uncontrollably. She wants a drink, of something strong, of anything, that would take the edge off. She gets off the couch, and goes to her room. She shoves the picture in the back of the closet, in a box filled with old pictures. She returns to the living room. She's still crying, when she lays down on the couch. She doesn't bother to flip on the T.V. She knows that the white noise won't be enough to drown out the sound of her own thoughts.

Abomination, is the last word she thinks of, before she falls to sleep. She cries, to the point of sheer exhaustion. The pillow under her head is soaked in tears. She lies there wondering to herself how modern pharmaceuticals could have failed her. She feels emotionally drained, and closes her eyes. She gets into a sound sleep, for the first time in weeks.

Fin stops by her apartment, during lunch. He unlocks the bolts on the door, one by one, thinking that she'll hear him. He enters the apartment, quietly closing the door behind him. He finds her asleep on the couch. He grabs the blanket off the back of the couch, and covers her up. She doesn't stir. He leaves the apartment, before she wakes up.

She wakes up, a couple of hours after falling asleep. It only takes her a moment to return to reality. She finds herself covered, with a blanket. She knows whose been in the apartment, and she's too exhausted to care that he didn't wake her. She finds herself ready to break down. She puts on her running shoes. She laces them tightly, and slips her keys into the pocket of her hooded sweatshirt. She leaves the apartment, methodically locking each bolt from the hallway.

She runs, until she reaches the park. It's the middle of the day. She tries to stay focused on her running. Unfortunately she has no earbuds in her ears to tune out the sounds around her, or even her own thoughts. She finds herself running, behind a woman, with a jogging stroller. She stops, dead, in her tracks. She pants, to catch her breath. She heads to a nearby bench. She takes a seat. She tries not to get caught up in the moment, but she can't help it.

After she catches her breath she turns, and runs home. She runs home, faster than she ran away from it. Her phone rings, as she reaches the entrance to her building. She pulls it out of her pocket, and checks the caller I.D. She ignores the call, and pulls the door open, to go inside. As she climbs the stairs, the feeling in the pit of her stomach reminds her, that she doesn't want to be at home. She doesn't want to be alone, in an empty apartment, surrounded by her thoughts.

* * *

Hours later, Fin returns from work. He enters his apartment. As he closes the door, he realizes that the TV is on. He looks up, and finds Olivia sitting in his sad looking recliner.

"What are you doing here?"

"I don't know," she admits, candidly.

"You gonna tell me what's going on with you?"

"Didn't Amanda?"

"Amanda didn't tell me anything. All she said was that you had a rough day yesterday. She wouldn't elaborate."

"Oh."

"So, are you going to?"

"No."

"I know there is something that you're not telling me?"

"Fin, there are a lot of things that I don't tell you."

"I know, and it worries me."

"Stop worrying about me," she begs.

"I will, when I am convinced that I have a reason to."

"I don't want to talk about it. I don't want to talk, at all."

"What do you want?"

"I just want to forget about it. I want to forget everything."

"I am not sure if I can help with that," he flips on the lights.

"I should go. I am in your seat."

"It's ok, you can stay."

"I don't know if I'm ever going to get over this."

"It is just going to take time," he reminds her.

"It's going to take a lot more than that. I look in the mirror, and all I can see, is scars that are fading ,and..." she trails off.

"And, what?"

"A victim," the tears start to trail down her face.

He doesn't say anything, he just wraps her in a hug.


	25. Fighting Mirrors

She goes home from work, the next day, and jumps into the shower. She tries to scrub away the filth, of the day. Mostly, the mental, and emotional kind. When she finishes she turns off the shower, and climbs out. She lets her wet hair hang on shoulders. She doesn't bother to wrap it in a towel. She dries her body off, and she wraps the towel around her.

She wipes the steam off the bathroom mirror, with her hand. She stares at her own reflection. She's not sure she recognizes the person staring back at her. There are dark circles under her eyes. She feels her age, and then some. She looks tired. She tries to shake it off. She pulls on some clean clothes. Once she gets dressed she finds herself staring at the mirror, on the back of that bathroom door. Her wet hair soaks onto the baggy blue t-shirt.

She takes a deep breath. She reaches behind her, and pulls the oversized t-shirt tight. She stares at her midsection, in silence. She wonders how she could have missed this? Her abdomen reminds her, that it isn't that obvious. Since the attack, she found herself, at the gym, a lot. She couldn't sleep, most nights. There was a twenty four hour fitness place around the corner. Being alone, in her apartment wasn't good for her, so she would go there, instead. She would spend hours there, exercising obsessively.

She lifts up the shirt, to have a closer look. It is mostly flat, still. No one would be able to look at her, and know. She moves her hand. She approaches her stomach. She stops, before touching it, as if she's about to place her hand on a lit burner. She swallows hard, and makes herself do it, anyway. She places her hand on her stomach. She does it, in the hopes it might change something. Maybe, it would change her, or the way she feels.

She still feels numb. She puts the lid down, on the toilet, after backing away from the mirror. She takes a seat on the toilet lid. She leans forward. She cradles her head, with her hands. She runs her fingers through her hair, and the tears fall, uncontrollably. She wipes the tears away, with the palm of her hand.

"How could this happen? This isn't fair. I don't want this," she looks up, at the ceiling, "Why did you let this happen?" she shakes her head, "I don't know why I talk to you, anymore. I have lost any faith, that you're there," she exhales.

She doesn't get a response. She gets up, knowing that anymore time alone will be detrimental. She decides she should go across the hall, and pay Fin a visit. But before she can exit the bathroom, her anger overwhelms her. She catches another glimpse of herself in the mirror. For a split second, she envisions herself, with a obviously round, pregnant stomach, and she just loses it.

Without thinking, she makes a fist. She punches the mirror. The glass shatters on the floor. She jumps back, with bare feet. She looks at her hand, and finds shards of glass stuck in her knuckles. She grabs a towel, and wraps it up.

She reaches for the broom, that is in the corner of the room. She sweeps up the glass, and tosses it in the trashcan. She opens the door, and exits the room. She finds her phone lying on her bed. She takes a seat on the bed, and dials the number of a co-worker. After three rings she elicits a ring.

"I thought that you left for the day," the voice on the other end tells her.

"I did, but I need a favor."

"I left the office."

"A personal favor."

"What kind?"

"Can you come to my apartment?"

"Ok, I'll be there in ten."

Olivia hangs up the phone. Ten minutes later, someone is knocking at the door. She looks out the peephole, and unlatches all of the locks. She pulls the door open.

"Come in," she motions with her unaffected hand.

Melinda steps into the apartment, "This is a nice place," she comments, closing the door.

"Thanks."

"What was so urgent?"

Olivia realizes that she is holding her hand behind her back. She brings it out, and shows it to Melinda. Melinda sees that the towel is blood soaked.

"What did you do?" Melinda questions.

"I was just walking around, fighting mirrors. I didn't want to spend my whole night in the E.R., so I called you."

"I can take care of it. Do you have any peroxide?"

"Yeah," Olivia nods, retreating to the bathroom. She returns a few moments later, to found that the doctor has set up shop, on her coffee table.

"Where did all of that come from?" Olivia questions, taking a seat on the couch, next to Melinda.

"I always carry a first aid kit."

"Of course you do."

"Let me see," she insists.

Olivia nods. Melinda pulls on a pair of gloves, and slowly unwraps the towel, from Olivia's hand.

"I need you to lay it flat," Melinda instructs.

Olivia nods, lying it on the coffee table.

"Hold still, I am going to take the glass shards out."

"Ok," Olivia agrees.

Melinda pulls out each shard of glass, with tweezers. She places them on the ruined towel. She cleans the wounds.

"These aren't too deep, I'm just going to put some steri-strips on them, and bandage it up."

"Ok."

Melinda quickly, and skillfully dresses Olivia's hand.

"Thank you. Can I get you anything to drink?" Olivia offers.

"No, I'm fine."

Olivia grabs the towel, and takes it to the trash can, along with the other casualties of her episode of anger. Melinda collects the pieces of her first aid kit.

"Can I ask you something?" Melinda questions.

"Yes," Olivia nods.

"First of all, how did you do that to your hand?"

"I told you, I punched the mirror."

"Why?"

"I was angry."

"Fair enough. Secondly, how can you afford a place like this?"

"The past eight people who have lived here, all died, within a year and a half of moving in. The last died in the living room, in her rocking chair. There is still a stain, on the floor."

"Where?" Melinda inspects it.

Olivia pulls up the corner of the rug.

"You weren't kidding. That is a serious stain."

"I've tried everything, nothing will make it go away."

"Can you say that about what you're going through?"

Olivia furrows her brow, "What do you mean?"

"Have you done everything you can, to make your anger go away? Olivia I know that you're hurt. I get it, but you can't be angry, all of the time. You can't go around fighting mirrors. You're going to get hurt, or you're going to hurt someone else," Melinda tells her.


	26. Rest Easy Tonight

It's nearly midnight. She's lying in her bed, wide awake. She tosses, and turns. She's almost asleep, when someone knocks on her door. She sighs, and reluctantly climbs out of bed. She grabs her gun, and quietly makes her way to the door. She looks out the peephole, and finds a familiar face. She lowers her weapon, and unlocks the door. She pulls it open. She looks at him, puzzled.

"What are you doing here? It's almost midnight."

"Like you were actually sleeping."

She steps aside, and lets him in. He closes the door, behind him.

"What are you doing here?" she repeats.

"I needed to tell you something."

"Fin, it's almost midnight. It couldn't wait until morning?"

"No."

"You couldn't have just called me?"

"Liv, I live across the hall, and four doors down."

"What is so important?"

"Where have you been all night?"

"I've been here."

"Alone?"

"What kind of a question is that? Are you interrogating me?"

"I need an answer."

"I have been alone, most of the night."

"There was someone here?" he raises his eyebrow.

"Melinda was here, for a while."

"Melinda? What was she doing here?"

Olivia places her weapon on the coffee table. She holds up her hand.

"What did you do?"

"I got in a fight," she lies.

"With who?"

"Not a who, a what."

"A, what? What did you get into a fight with?"

"The mirror."

"When was she here?"

"I called her about twenty after nine. She got here about nine thirty. She was here for a while. It was close to ten thirty, when she left."

"And after that?"

"I watched the news, and went to bed."

"Ok."

"What's with the third degree?"

"Sit down," he instructs.

"Fin, what is going on?"

"Liv, just trust me."

She takes a seat, on the couch. He takes a seat next to her.

"I am not the only one who is going to ask," he reveals.

"Why not?"

"I just got a phone call."

"From who?"

"A buddy of mine, in another precinct."

"So?"

"Bradley Harper was taken to the hospital, last night, for a GI bleed."

"He escaped?"

"Yeah, this planet," Fin answers.

"What do you mean?" her eyes widen.

"He died, in the hospital."

"From the GI bleed?"

"No," Fin shakes his head.

"From what?"

"His nurse went to lunch. When she came back, she went to check on him, and he was dead."

"People die, all of the time," Olivia points out.

"He was murdered. Tell me that you didn't do it," Fin begs.

She wears a serious look on her face, as she looks at him. Her dark brown eyes, look into his eyes.

"Are you really asking me that?"

"I'm only going to ask once."

"I didn't kill him. I didn't even know he was in the hospital."

"Ok. I believe you."

"I am not sorry that he's dead, but I didn't do it."

"I am sorry that I had to ask. You know that they're going to interrogate you, right?"

"I didn't leave the apartment, all night."

"You didn't do anything, but watch the news?"

"I checked my email, while I was watching the news."

"Liv, I hope that maybe, you can sleep, tonight."

"His death doesn't change what happened."

"He can never hurt you, again."

She looks away, "The damage is already done."

"I know."

"Was it quick?"

"No. The nurse was on lunch, for half an hour. She checked her five other patients, before she got to him. She only checked on him, because it was time for his IV fluid to be changed. He was tortured."

"Good."

"I should go. Get some sleep, tomorrow is going to be a long day."

"I'll try."

"Do you want me to stay?" he wonders.

"I am a big girl."

"You're a cop, with a badge, and a gun, but that doesn't mean that you want to be alone," he reminds her.

"I'll be ok," she promises.

"Ok," he walks out the door. She locks it, behind him. She leaves her gun on the coffee table, and returns to her room. She crawls into bed, and pulls the covers over her head. She doesn't feel a sense of relief. She cries, until she falls asleep.

* * *

The morning begins with a six o'clock wake up call, from her captain. She rolls towards her ringing phone. She grabs it, and answers.

"Benson."

"You need to get in here."

"What's going on?"

"We've already cleared you. I assume Fin told you, what happened?"

"Yeah, and?"

"We want you to interrogate the suspect."

"That doesn't seem appropriate," she points out.

"You're the only one that he's going to talk to."

"Who?"

"Elliot."


	27. Disbelief

She opens the door, to the interrogation room. She finds her former partner sitting on the wrong side of the table. She closes the door, and takes a seat.

"Would you like an attorney?" is the first question that she asks.

"No, I would not."

"Ok, then tell me what happened."

"I didn't kill him," Elliot insists.

"I don't know that I believe you," she admits.

"You were my partner, for twelve years. What he did to you, was unthinkable. Amanda called me, last night. She told me that I should talk to you, but she didn't say why. I figured that there was a reason."

"And?"

"It doesn't matter. I got a call, from someone I know."

"A guard?"

"An EMT," Elliot replies, "he told me that Harper was in the hospital."

"So you went there, and you killed him?"

"I would have loved, nothing more, than to chop his balls off, and bash his brains in. He deserved that."

"So you killed him?"

"I didn't kill him. I wanted to, but I didn't."

"Elliot, you don't have me convinced."

"I admit I was there."

"Do you have any idea how bad this looks for you? You were there, around the time that he was killed."

"I didn't kill him."

"Prove it."

"I wouldn't kill him. I don't want to go to prison, for the rest of my life, for a piece of scum, like that."

"You would do anything, for me," she reminds him.

"I have a family to take care of. I have five kids. Eli, is just a little kid. I wouldn't do that to them."

"I believe that."

"So you believe that I didn't do it?"

"I only know what the evidence tells me. You were there, around the time of his murder. A security camera puts you there."

"When I left him, he was still breathing. I didn't lay a finger on him."

"What did you go there, for? He was already convicted. He was going to spend the rest of his life, in prison for what he did."

"I wanted to talk to him."

"Why?"

"To ask him why. I wanted to ask him why he chose you."

"What did he say?" she raises her voice. The vein in her forehead pulsates.

"He said, that when you collared him, you inspired him. You challenged him. He wanted you to feel responsible, for the pain he caused. He said he saved you, for last, because you were his prize. You were the one he wanted to hurt."

"Elliot..." she swallows hard.

"I'm sorry. I know that's hard to hear."

"So you killed him?"

"I left. I walked out of the room, and I left. I didn't touch him."

"I don't believe you."

"I know that I don't have the best record, for showing restraint, but I swear to you, I didn't hurt him. I didn't kill him. I will admit, I wanted to, but I swear to you, I didn't do it."

She scoots her chair out, from the table. She gets up. She turns, and leaves the room. She slams the door, behind her. She finds Casey, on the other side, standing beside a group of people. Huang stands on one side of her, Alex on the other. Cragen stands next to Alex. Amanda comes into the mix, as she leaves the room.

"You believe him?" Alex wonders.

"I want to."

Casey looks through the glass, into the other room, "Part of me wants to give him a medal."

"If he did it," Huang adds.

"A murder is a murder, no matter who committed it," Alex reminds them.

"I agree, but what does the evidence say?" Olivia wonders.

"You should talk to Warner," Amanda suggests.

"I can't do that, because she is part of my alibi. There's not a whole lot that I can do, about this case," she walks off.

Amanda turns, to go after her. "Let her go," George insists.

"No offense, but she's my partner. She's a ticking time bomb."

He looks at her, "I know. I agree."

"Then why shouldn't I go after her?"

"Amanda, usually you can diffuse a bomb. In this particular situation, I don't think there is anyway that she can be diffused."

"So you just want to let me, let her go off?"

"Yes," he nods.

"What good does that do?"

"She's going to have to lose control, to find it again."

"That's crap," Amanda argues, as she heads after her partner.

When Olivia storms through the squad room, Fin is at his desk. He looks up, and sees her.

"Whoa! Where is the fire?"

"I can't do this," she murmurs.

He follows after her, as she makes a beeline for the elevator. He slips onto the elevator with her, at the last minute. It's just the two of them.

"Take a breath," he tells her.

"I can't. I can't handle this. I don't want anything to do with it. I just want all of this to go away."

"It's not going to go away."

"I know that. I just wish I knew how to deal with it."

"I have an idea," he smiles.

"You have lots of ideas," she reminds him.

"I think that this one might help."

"What's that?" she questions.

"Let's go to the range. That's one way to blow off steam."

"So is killing somebody."

"You think that he did it?"

"Are you asking me if I think he is capable?"

"No," he shakes his head, "We both know that he's capable."

"I think that he wanted to."

"But?"

"He wouldn't do it like that," she argues.

"What do you mean?"

"He would torture him, but he wouldn't leave a mark. He wouldn't leave a trace. He would want it to look like it was a natural death."


	28. But I Won't Do That

It's after midnight, when there is a knock at her door. She slides off the couch, and makes her way to the door. She looks through the peephole, and unchains the door. She pulls it open, after unbolting all of the locks.

"I'm sorry to come here, so late," he apologizes.

"You know I wasn't asleep. What's going on?"

"We cleared Elliot. We went through the footage, from the cameras."

"It was the nurse?"

"You heard what Melinda said. Someone gave him a fatal dose of potassium chloride."

"The nurse?"

"Nurses are no longer allowed to mix up doses of potassium, because of the risk of an error in calculation, that could be fatal. Their facility policy will not allow it."

"Because it's easy to screw up."

"Exactly."

"Who was it?"

"The pharmacist. He went out, and had a smoke break, with the nurse. He knew she was at lunch. He saw Elliot come in. He waited until he left. Elliot was only there for five or, ten minutes. He still had fifteen minutes. He beat him, and then injected him with the potassium chloride, right into the IV."

"It was quick?"

Fin shakes his head, "No. He did it slowly, so it would be painful."

"I wish that I could say I'll rest easier now, but I somehow doubt it."

"How is your hand?" he wonders.

"I won't be punching anymore mirrors," she admits.

"Night, Liv."

"Night," she watches him leave. She locks the door behind him.

* * *

The following morning, she arrives at work, a few minutes early. She finds that Amanda is the only one there. She places a cup of coffee on her desk.

"Thanks."

Olivia nods, "I wanted to let you know, I'm not going to do this," she whispers.

"You changed your mind?"

Olivia nods. Amanda doesn't say another word. The rest of their team trickles in. Olivia hands them each a coffee.

"What's the occasion?" Amaro wonders.

John shoots him a look, "I think that it's obvious," he adds.

"To moving on," Olivia announces.

The phone rings. Amanda picks it up. She listens for a minute, and then nods, "Ok," she hangs up. She looks at Olivia.

"Warner wants to see you in her office," Amanda tells her.

"For what?"

"She didn't say," Amanda admits.

"I'll go," Fin offers.

"No, she said she wanted Olivia."

"Ok," Olivia nods.

* * *

She leaves the squad room. She hops on the elevator, and rides to the basement. She gets off the elevator, and goes to find Warner. She finds Warner in a autopsy. Olivia pushes the doors open, and steps in.

"You wanted to see me."

"Yes," Melinda nods.

"What's going on? Something about..."

"It's not about him," she reveals.

"Then, what?"

"It's about you," she answers.

"Melinda, what are you talking about?"

"I kept asking myself, what would make you punch a mirror."

"I told you, I was angry."

"You're angry a lot. You usually don't go around punching mirrors. You have more self control than that."

"Melinda, don't worry about me. I'm fine."

"Don't lie to me," Melinda insists.

"I'll be fine."

"And how do you expect me to believe that?"

"Why wouldn't you believe it?"

"I know what's going on," Melinda tells her.

"No, you don't," she argues.

"You can't keep everything locked inside, all of the time," Melinda reminds her.

"Please, just let it go," she begs, on the verge of tears.

"I'm worried about you."

"Join the club."

"Olivia you have to talk, to someone."

"I am tired of talking. I don't want to talk, anymore. I just want to forget. I just want all of it, to go away."

"You can't pretend like it never happened."

"I can try."

"It's not working."

"Melinda, why did you call me down here? You just want to lecture me?"

"No. I just wanted you to know, that if you need anything, I'm here for you."

"I know that. Can I go now?"

"No," she shakes her head.

"Why not?"

"I'm a doctor," Melinda points out.

"Not a psychologist, so just let it be."

"From what I hear you won't see one of those, either."

"I have been to see one."

"How many times?"

"Once," she admits.

"You think that is enough?"

"Why do you care?"

"You're going to play it, that way?"

"What way?"

"As, I said, I wondered what would make you punch a mirror."

"So, what?"

"I took one of the gloves I wore, with me."

"Why?"

"I tested them."

"You did what?"

"I tested them."

"You're unbelievable."

"You're pregnant," Melinda counters.

Olivia doesn't say anything. She falls eerily silent. She clenches her jaw, trying not to cry.

"How long have you known?" Melinda questions.

Her jaw quivers, as she answers, a tear slides down her cheek. "Four days. I found out four days ago."

"You didn't know?"

Olivia shakes her head.

"What are you going to do?"

"I can't do this."

Melinda steps forward. She envelopes Olivia in a hug.


	29. Orders

Weeks pass, and turn into months. The team tries to move forward, but it is difficult. Olivia enters the squad room, after returning from a crime scene. She barely makes it to her desk.

"Benson! My office, now!" Cragen insists.

She takes a deep breath, and makes her way into his office, still wearing her vest.

"Close the door," he insists, as she enters the room.

She closes the door, behind her.

"What the hell was that?" he raises an eyebrow.

"What are you talking about?"

"You almost got yourself killed. You walked right into the line of fire. You put everything on the line."

"I did what I had to. He was holding three fourteen year old girls in his basement. What did you want me to do? Wait for him to put a bullet through them, before I made my move?"

"You didn't follow protocol."

"Those girls were in danger. I didn't have a choice."

"You need to take the day," he insists.

"I'm fine."

"You're not fine. Olivia you need to get professional help. You're reckless, and..."

"And, what?" she raises her voice.

"And if you don't get a handle on your anger, we're going to have problems."

"What are you saying?"

"If you don't get it together, you're going to be riding the desk."

"Captain," she tries to argue.

"Don't make me insist on a psych eval, both of us know that you couldn't pass it, right now."

"I was just doing my job."

"Olivia, you're acting like Elliot. You're putting my whole team in jeopardy. I won't have it. Go home."

"Fine."

"And don't come back, until you've seen someone."

"Is that an order?"

He grits his teeth, and shakes his head, "Olivia, this is your last free pass. I want you to go talk to Huang."

"I..." she begins to argue.

"Talk to him, or give me your badge, and your gun, now," he delivers the ultimatum.

She nods, "Fine," she stomps out of his office.

* * *

She grabs her purse, and leaves the squad room, without a word to anyone. She gets in her car, and drives to George's office. She knocks on the door, when she reaches his office.

"Come in," he tells her.

She enters the room, closing the door behind her.

"Have a seat."

"The Captain called you?"

"Yes. Have a seat."

She takes a seat, in a chair, near him.

"What do I have to say, to get out of this?"

"You're not getting out of this. You can't just say, what I want to hear. It doesn't work like that. I have worked with you, for a long time," he reminds her.

"I know."

"I know you. That is why captain Cragen suggested that you talk to me."

"I don't want to talk to anyone."

"I understand that."

"Then why does everyone want me to talk?"

"We just want you to heal," he tells her.

"I don't know how to do that."

"Olivia whatever you say to me, does not leave this room. I am not going to tell the Captain, I am not going to tell anyone."

"I know that."

"Then talk to me."

"Why? Give me a reason."

"Olivia I know how much your job means to you. If you don't talk to me, you may not have a job. Do you get that?" he questions her, seriously.

She looks up at him.

"You are going to lose everything that you've worked for, if you don't pull it together."

"It's not that simple."

"I know that, Olivia."

She runs her fingers back, and forth, over the jagged scar, on her knuckle.

"Let's start there," he suggests.

"Where?"

"With the scar."

"What about it?"

"Just tell me about it."

"Every time things start to get back to normal, something reminds me, that they're not, and..."

"That's what happened to your hand?"

"I was angry. I just want to move on with my life. Everyday there are little reminders, that I can't escape. The scar that I feel, when I brush my hair. Or that moment each night, right before I go to sleep, when I wonder what I'm going to wake up to. Every day, it's something."

"And it makes you angry?"

"I moved to a new apartment, in a different building, in a different part of town. I have seven locks on my door. There isn't even a window in by bedroom."

"You're looking for a sense of security?"

"The gun was laying right next to me, less than three feet away, and it didn't matter."

"Tell me about the night you punched the mirror."

"I was looking at myself in the mirror, and I was just so angry," she swallows hard, trying to fight off the tears, "I couldn't even stand to look at myself. I have been a cop, most of my life, and... I couldn't protect myself. How am I supposed to protect, and serve, when I can't even protect myself?"

"You have to find away to deal with the anger."

"Nothing works."

"Tell me how you felt, when you learned that he was murdered?"

"I knew that people would think I did it, at least initially."

"Why?"

"Because I had the motive. I wouldn't even deny that I wanted him dead."

"But?"

"He deserved to suffer, for a very long time."

"Then you would feel that you got justice?"

She stops, and thinks. "No."

"No?"

"Dead, or alive, the damage is already done. He took my sense of security."

"How have you been sleeping?"


	30. Justifies The Means

"I don't sleep."

"At all?"

"I don't sleep well."

"What keeps you from sleeping?"

"For every one we get off the street, there are fifty more, just like him."

"Who do you blame?"

She furrows her brow, "For what?"

"What happened to you?"

"Myself. I am responsible. I could have kept over a dozen other women from being..."

He shakes his head, "No you couldn't. It wasn't your fault. You couldn't have stopped it."

"I could have put him behind bars."

"You didn't have the evidence."

"I could have stopped it."

"Olivia, there is nothing that you could have done differently."

"I don't believe that."

"You have to find a way, to believe in something," he reminds her.

"What?"

"You have lost faith, in yourself. You have lost faith, in the justice system. You may have even lost faith, in humanity. So, what makes you get up, and go to work, every morning?"

"I don't want anyone to ever have to go through, what I did."

"And to do that, you have to work on you. If you want to catch them, you have to do things by the book. You have to get your anger in check. You can't put your life on the line."

"Why not?"

"Who is going to take your place?"

"I don't know," she admits.

"There is only one you."

"I don't even know who I am, anymore."

"You're the same person that you have always been. You may have a few more scars, but you're still you."

"But I don't know how to go back."

"That is your mistake. There is no going back. You can only move forward."

"How?"

"Maybe you should take some time, to reflect on that."

"You're saying that I should take some time off?"

"I am just saying that you should take some time."

"I don't need any time."

"You need to stop living in denial."

"Living in denial? That is what you think that I am doing? I faced my worst fear, head on."

"And?"

"All of the scenarios that I had thought of, none of them could have prepared me, for what actually happened."

"Why?"

"Because I couldn't do anything."

"You felt weak?"

"Yes."

"And powerless?"

She nods.

"You have fought, your entire life to be something else?"

"I didn't want to be like her."

"Like who?"

"My mother."

"Why not?"

"Her rape changed everything. She was consumed by it. She never recovered from it. She drank, to try and forget, but it didn't work. How could it? She had to look at me, every single day, for the rest of her life. She had a daily reminder of what happened to her."

"Have you been drinking?"

"I can't."

"You can't?"

"I know that if I do, I won't be able to stop."

"You don't want to be like her, but you're making the same mistakes."

She furrows her brow, "What do you mean?"

"You won't ask for help."

She lets the thought sink in. "I don't know how to."

"Coming here is a start. I know that you don't want to be like her. I know, that you have been independent your whole life. You wanted to make something of yourself. We all do."

"But?"

"How important is doing it all on your own, all of the time? We all need help, sometimes. It doesn't make us weak. It makes us strong enough to know, when we can't do it on our own. It takes strength to ask for help. If it didn't, it wouldn't be so hard."

"I don't want to be like her."

"You're not."

"What if I was?"

He smiles at her, "We would never let you be."

"That is my ultimate worst fear."

"You're nothing like her," he insists.

"Most days, I don't believe that, anymore."

"What do you believe?"

"I used to believe that everything happened for a reason, but I don't anymore. I can't understand why this happened to me. I don't know how to move on. It's not easy."

"No one ever said that it would be."

"I thought that it would be easier."

"Stop locking everyone out."

"Are you telling me not to lock my door?"

He smiles, "I mean metaphorically. Stop locking yourself away, in your apartment, by yourself, all of the time. Even, when you're at work, you don't let anyone in. How is your partner supposed to do her job, if she doesn't know what's going on in your head?"

"Cragen told you what happened, today?"

"You didn't wait for back up. Your partner was forced to follow you into a hostage situation, when neither of you had all of the details. When the two of you were clearing the scene, you walked away from her. You didn't answer her on your radio. You walked into a room, with a man armed with a high powered assault rifle. You didn't wait on your partner. You engaged him. Your partner didn't know where you were."

"I didn't shoot him," she points out.

"You walked up to him, even though he had a gun pointed at you. You took your weapon, and you put it to his head, without blinking."

"I wasn't going to shoot him."

"What if your partner, hadn't walked into the room?"

"I wouldn't have shot him," she argues.

"He put the rifle in your chest, and you didn't flinch."

"I trust my partner."

"She didn't have a shot."

"The sniper, in the tree did."

"You didn't know he was there."

"He held three girls hostage, for years."

"So you're telling me that ends justifies the means?"

"No."


	31. Missing

Two weeks later, the incident has blown over. She sits at her desk, waiting for further instruction. The Captain approaches. The team huddles around him.

"We've got two missing boys. We know who took him. He owns three properties," Cragen points to the map.

"Munch, and Amaro, I want the two of you to search this property. Olivia, Fin the two of you are going to search this one. Amanda, you're with me. We'll search the third. We've got our warrants, so I want everybody geared up, in the next ten."

"What do we know about the properties?" Nick questions.

"I will give each team blue prints. The first is an abandoned warehouse. The second is an abandoned school. The third is an old factory."

"Swat is going to join us?" Amanda wonders.

"They will join Munch, and Amaro at the abandoned warehouse, it has the most square footage, and there has been activity spotted there the last couple of days. Once that site is cleared, Swat will move on to the next building. We have to move quickly. We know this guy is a serial. We also know his time table. We only have a couple hours left to find these kids."

"Is it possible, that they're at two different locations?" Munch queries.

"It's more than likely," Cragen nods, "Now gear up."

* * *

Nick, and John enter the warehouse, with the swat team. They quickly, and quietly begin searching. There are several shipping containers in the warehouse, that they have to search through. They find containers full of contraband. They search through each one of them, one by one. Nick turns to John.

"They aren't in these shipping containers," he shakes his head.

"There are a couple of rooms, on the far side of the building. We should look in those. Swat can handle the containers."

"Ok," he agrees.

They move towards the far side of the building. They push open a door. It leads them to a hallway. John holds up the blue prints.

"Six rooms," Nick points out.

John points to the right, "We should start there," he suggests.

They move forward. They stop at the door, which has a lock on it. Nick opens it, with the bolt cutters. They step into the room. It's an office. They find that it's empty void for a few files. They exit the room, and move to the next.

This room also has a lock on it. Nick stops to open it. John nudges him, before he's finished.

"What?"

John points to the next room, "That's a freezer."

"So?"

"If your going to torture a kid, you're not going to lock them up in an office, are you?"

The lock drops to the floor. They quickly look inside. They find another office, the same as the last. The move from the room, towards the freezer.

The freezer door has two heavy duty locks on it. Nick struggles to get the second one off. Finally, after several moments, he succeeds. They pull the freezer door open. It's filled with boxes. Once inside the freezer, they find another door. This one also has locks on it. As Nick attempts to cut the lock off John hears something."Do you hear that?"

"It's muffled. I can't tell what it is," Amaro admits.

"Open it."

"I'm trying!"

John steps in. He squeezes the bolt cutters, and the lock falls to the ground. Nick pulls the door open. He hears it to.

"Help," an exhausted voice begs.

They find the two boys laying under the bottom shelf. Nick picks up the seven year old. Munch scoops up the five year old. They carry them out of the freezer. They bundle them in their suit jackets. They carry them out of the building, towards the awaiting ambulance.

Once they hand them off to the EMT's they radio for the rest of the team.

* * *

Fin and Olivia have already cleared the ground level of the old school. He stands at a staircase.

"Should we head to the second floor, or the basement?" he questions.

She furrows her brow, "When was this place condemned?"

"About thirty years ago."

"I can see why," she grimaces.

"You ok?"

"I'm fine."

"So, up, or down?"

"A dark basement, that would terrify a kid," she points out.

"To the basement, it is."

He leads her around the stair case. At the back there is a door. He pulls it open, and they begin their descent down the stairs. When they reach the bottom, they turn on their flashlights.

* * *

Nick reaches Rollins, and Cragen. He attempts to radio Fin, and Olivia. He gets no response. He dials their phones. Again, he gets no response.

* * *

"You know this is an old building. There is a lot of concrete, and old piping. I doubt we get any service down here," he points out.

She whips out her phone. She frowns, "Nothing, you?"

He studies this phone. He shakes his head, "Nope."

"What about your radio?" she inquires.

He attempts to make contact with anyone. It doesn't work.

"I guess we're in the dark," he jokes.

"Ha ha," she rolls her eyes, as they move down the hall way.

They reach a room. Olivia wipes off the sign on the door, with her sleeve.

"Boiler room."

"This place gives me the creeps," he tells her.

"Come on," she opens the door.

He follows her into the boiler room. They find nothing more than old pipes, a boiler, and a furnace. Also, they run into lots of cobwebs, and some serious mold. They leave the room, rather quickly. They return to the hallway.

"I never thought I would be glad to be smelling dirt," Fin points out.

She closes the door, of the boiler room. They systematically check the other three rooms. A mechanical room. A utility room, and last, but not least, a storage room.

"They're not here," Fin insists.

Olivia stands at the end of the hallway, staring at the wall.

"Hey space cadet, let's go back upstairs," he insists.

"Does something look off here, to you?"

He briefly glances at the wall. "No, come on."

She taps on the wall. She turns, and looks at her partner, "Fin, it's hollow."

"You're imagining things," he argues.

"I bet that there is a steam tunnel under here," she tells him.

"Let's not find out," he begs.

"There could be a kid down there."

He nods. He moves to the wall, with her. He waits for her cue. They push at the same time.


	32. Missing Something

It pushes open. Fin reluctantly follows Olivia down three concrete steps, into the tunnel. The door slams closed behind them.

"I have a bad feeling, about this," he tells her.

"Left, or right?" she questions.

"Right, we're going right. You don't get to pick directions, anymore. You pick, and we end up in a tunnel that we're never going to get out of."

"You're being dramatic," she argues.

Before they can start out, Olivia freezes. Fin touches her arm.

"Liv, are you ok?"

"Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?" he questions.

She points to the left, "It came from down there."

"I am not going that way," he argues.

"Just listen," she insists.

"Fine," he huffs.

They fall silent. He listens for several seconds. He turns to his partner, shaking his head.

"You're right, I hear it too."

"What does it sound like, to you?"

"It's hard to hear, but it sounds like a kid, or a rat, it's hard to tell," he admits.

"Come on."

He follows her to the left. Twenty yards down the tunnel it makes a sharp right. They continue to walk with a gun in one hand, and a flashlight, in the other. Another twenty five yards, and the tunnel stops, dead.

"I guess we'll have to turn around, and go the other way," he begs.

She looks ahead, clearly it doesn't go any farther, in that direction. She looks to her left, and nothing. She turns to her right. She furrows her brow. She listens.

"It's coming from there," she insists.

He rolls his eyes, and shines his flashlight, against the wall. She studies the brick. It only takes him a second, to see it, too. There is a latch, and a handle. Olivia holds the flashlight, as Fin pushes the latch to his right. He grips the handle, and pushes it open. They step into the room. The door closes, behind them. Above them, they can see a very small amount of light, from a steam grate, above. They shine their light. They sweep, from right, to left. There is no one. Olivia gasps.

"Liv? Are you ok?"

"There is something touching my ankle," she answers, frozen.

He turns, and shines a flashlight in her direction, as she stands, frozen. They stare at the corner of the room, in disbelief. Olivia stares at the small hand that is wrapped around her ankle. She squats down, to study the little boy.

"I'm Olivia, and this is Fin. We're cops, we're here to help you," she tells him.

"Liv I don't recognize him," Fin adds.

"What's your name?"

The little boy has big brown eyes, and dark hair. "Collin," he answers.

As she reaches for the little boy, they hear footsteps. Before Fin, and turn, and open the door, they hear the latch being locked. The footsteps move away.

"It's him," Collin whispers.

"Who?"

"The bad man. He said he wouldn't let me go."

"Collin, how old are you?" Olivia tries to distract him.

"I'm four."

"Four? Collin, can you tell me your last name?"

"Green."

"What is your mommy's name?"

Olivia expects the usual response. Instead Collin answers, "Emily Smith."

"And your daddy?"

"David Green. I live at 541 West lake street, apartment 3c."

"Wow, Collin. You are very smart."

"Mommy made me memorize it, in case I ever got lost."

"I bet your mommy is very worried about you," she adds.

"Liv," Fin nudges her. "This door isn't budging. He locked us in here. How do you suppose we get out?"

"We'll have to wait, for someone to find us."

* * *

Four, and a half hours later, Nick, Amanda, John, and Cragen, are at the school. They stand in the lobby, on the ground floor. They stare at the blueprint.

"We have searched every room," Nick admits.

"They didn't just disappear," John points out.

"There car is still here," Amanda adds.

"Maybe our perp took them somewhere," Nick suggests.

"We don't know where he is," Cragen reminds them.

"We're missing something," John insists.

* * *

They sit on the floor. Collin is asleep, on Fin's jacket. Olivia leans against the wall. Collin's head rests on her leg. Fin sits next to her. He looks at his phone.

"We've been down here four, and a half hours."

"They'll find us," she insists.

"It's like four million degrees down here," he adds.

"I know."

"What is that face about?" he questions.

"What face?" she raises an eyebrow.

"You keep grimacing, are you alright?"

"I'm fine, I'm just hot."

He looks up. "Maybe we can get out through that grate. I'll..."

"I am certain that grate is screwed in."

"We have to try something," he insists.

* * *

Cragen hangs up the phone. The rest of his team is searching the building, again. He radios for them. The three of them return to the lobby. They surround him.

"What's up, Captain?" Nick questions.

"I was on the phone with the county engineer. There is a steam tunnel under this building."

"How do we get to it?"

"Through the basement," Cragen reveals.

"Let's go," Munch insists.

Five minutes later, Fin turns to Olivia.

"Do you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"Footsteps," he tells her.

Amaro is the first down the stairs, into the steam tunnel.

"Olivia? Fin?" he calls out.

"Down here!" Fin screams.

Half the team goes to the left, the other to the right. Nick, and Amanda head towards the left. They make the sharp turn, and they hear screaming. They reach the end of the tunnel, and hear banging. Nick holds up the flashlight. He pulls open the door. Olivia steps out. Fin steps out, with the little boy, in his arms.

Amanda, and Nick look at them questioningly.

"Who is he?"

"Collin Green," Olivia announces.

"Let's get you guys out of here," Nick smiles.


	33. Running Shoes

Hours later, they finally head home. Fin drives. At a stop light, he looks over at her. She's quiet.

"You ok?"

"I'm fine," she insists.

He wipes dirt off her face.

"That was a memorable day," he points out.

"Everyone made it home, safely."

"And we caught the guy," he adds as they go through the light.

"Yeah."

"And what about that kid?"

"The bonus kid? The one no one knew was missing."

"The guy grabbed him right before school. Parents didn't get a call," Fin adds.

"Someone is going to be losing their job, over that."

"He was a smart little boy," Fin points out.

"I wish all kids were like that."

"Most four year olds can't even tell you their last names."

"He has good parents," Olivia agrees.

"You look beat," he smiles.

"Yeah, I'm exhausted, how about you?"

"I wouldn't mind a little one on one time, with my lady."

"The recliner?" she smirks.

"She's my girl."

"You're ridiculous."

"So are you. So what are your big plans for the rest of the night?"

"It's eleven thirty."

"And?"

"We've been at it, since five this morning."

"You must be getting old. I remember when we could easily go for three days straight."

"I get two, maybe three hours of sleep, on a good night."

He pulls up to a parking spot.

"Home," he smiles.

"Thank heaven," she bails out of the car.

He follows her up to their floor. He stops at his apartment. She goes down the hallway, to hers. She closes the door behind her. She un-holsters her weapon. She tosses it, and her badge on the counter, along with the keys. She makes a beeline for the bathroom. She turns on the shower, and peels her clothes off. She tosses them into the laundry hamper. She climbs into the shower, and closes the door, behind her.

After several minutes she climbs out of the shower, and she wraps herself in a towel. She pulls on some clean underwear, and a pair of pajamas. She wears a pair of pajama bottoms, and her favorite, well worn, oversized NYPD t-shirt. She hangs her towel up, in the bathroom. She heads straight to bed.

She climbs under her covers, without performing her ritual. She doesn't check the door, and windows nineteen times. She just closes her eyes, to go to sleep. It comes quickly, but it doesn't last long. She wakes up less than an hour later. The clock reads _1:02_. She rolls onto her back. She looks up at the ceiling. Something just doesn't seem right. She tries to quiet her mind. It screams at her.

She ignores it, and rolls back onto her side. After an hour of tossing, and turning she falls back to sleep. When she wakes up, again the clock reads _2:28._ She rolls over, and flips on the lamp. She sits up, in bed. She takes a deep breath. Reality sets in, and she begins to feel a sense of panic. She climbs out of bed, and she grabs her running shoes. She grabs her keys, and leaves the apartment.

Halfway down the hall, she wonders what to do. Should she wake him up? Would she be ok, to drive herself. She stops at his doorway. She stares at it. Thoughts swirl, around in her head. She raises her hand to knock, but then changes her mind. She turns, to leave.

He pulls the door open. He rubs his eyes, and looks at her, questioningly. She's in her pajama's, and a pair of running shoes. Her still wet hair is pulled into a sloppy bun. He can tell by the panic stricken look on her face, that something is wrong. She stares at him, in silence, afraid to say anything.

"Liv? Why are you in the hallway, at two thirty in the morning?"

"I... I don't know," she shakes her head, "Why did you open the door?"

"I was asleep, in the living room. I heard footsteps. Before I could get to the door, or my gun, they stopped. Right here," he points.

"Where is your gun?"

"'Livia, are you ok?"

"No," she shakes her head.

"Where are you going?"

"Who said that I'm going anywhere?"

"The keys in your hand."

Her eyes fall to the keys, "Right," she nods.

"So, where are you going? Are you going for a run, in the middle of the night?"

"What would make you think that?"

"You're wearing your running shoes."

"They were the first pair of shoes I could find."

"Were you sleep walking?"

"No. Do you think I would put on shoes, for that?"

"What is going on?"

"Nothing, go back to bed," she begs.

"Liv, where are you going?"

"I'm just going for a drive," she fibs.

"Let me go with you."

"I'll be fine."

"Give me the keys."

"I am a grown woman, I can take care of myself."

He exhales, reaching for her keys, "Look, you don't have to tell me what's going on with you. Obviously something is wrong. You don't have to trust me enough to tell me. You just have to trust me enough to know, that I know you."

"I do."

"And I know you don't need to be driving, right now."

"I'll be fine."

"I won't, if I find out you crashed into a tree, cause I let you drive yourself, wherever the hell you think you're going, at two thirty in the morning."

"You're not my mother."

"Give me the keys."

She reluctantly hands him the keys.

"So, where are we going?"

"It's a surprise."

"How am I supposed to get there, if you don't tell me where we're going?"

"I'll give you turn by turn directions."

"Whatever," he rolls his eyes, closing his door, behind him.


	34. Unlikely Destination

He pulls up to their destination. He kills the engine, and locks the doors, before either of them can get out.

"Are you going to tell me what we're doing at the hospital?"

"Please don't do this," she begs.

"Fine," he unlocks the doors.

He follows her into the hospital. He waits in the waiting room. A nurse comes out, after a few minutes, and tells him they're transferring her to another floor. He rides the elevator, to that floor. He waits in the waiting area, for another hour, or more. After a while, he falls asleep.

* * *

She wakes up, at a quarter until seven. She calls in sick to work. She puts on her call light, after she hangs up with the captain. A nurse comes into the room.

"What can I do for you?"

"Is the gentleman I came in with, still in the waiting room?"

"He's sound asleep, out there, you want me to get him?"

She simply nods.

The nurse leaves the room. She makes her way to the waiting room. Fin is sound asleep, in one of the chairs, in the waiting room.

"Excuse me," she nudges him.

He looks up, "Is she ok?"

"She wants to see you," the nurse tells him.

"Ok."

"She's in two oh nine."

"Thanks."

He heads to her room. He makes it to the nurse's station, and then takes a right. He walks down the hall, until he finds 209. He pushes the door open, and goes inside. He closes the door, and makes his way towards her. He takes a seat, next to her. He stares at her, in silence, awaiting an explanation. She lies in the bed, with covers up to her armpits. There is an IV in her right arm. She stares back at him, unsure what to say.

"So, I passed the nursery, on my way from the waiting room."

"Oh?"

"Why are we on the OB floor? The rest of the rooms at the inn, are full, or what?"

She doesn't say anything.

"Olivia?"

"You should leave soon. I don't want you to be late for work."

"I'm not worried about it."

"It's almost seven."

"Olivia, just tell me what's going on."

"Please swear to me, that you won't say a word, to anyone."

"Ok," he agrees.

"I don't even know where to start," she admits.

"Olivia, just spit it out."

"It's not that simple."

"Ok?"

"You know what, I can't tell you, not right now."

"You're in the hospital, and you won't tell me why?"

"I will," she promises.

"But?"

"You shouldn't be thinking about it, all day, while you're at work. Just go to work. I'll see you when you get done."

"I don't know when that will be, you know that."

"I don't think that I'm going anywhere."

"What do I tell everyone?"

"I called in sick."

"With?"

"I told them that I have appendicitis," she answers.

"Do you?" he raises an eyebrow.

"I don't have an appendix, but they don't know that."

"Just tell me, the truth," he begs.

"I will, just not yet. Ok?"

"Alright," he nods.

"I'll see you later."

"Do you want visitors?"

"Absolutely not."

"Fine," he stomps out of the room, angry with her.

* * *

He enters the bullpen, and finds that most of his colleagues have already arrived. He gets into his locker, and pulls out a clean outfit. He changes in the bathroom, and dumps the old clothes back in the locker. He takes a seat at his desk. Amanda looks at him, suspiciously.

"What?" he furrows his brow.

"Where is Olivia?"

"Not here," he quips.

"Is she ok?"

"She's got appendicitis," he reveals.

"Shouldn't someone be there, with her?" Amanda inquires.

"They took her in for emergency surgery, early this morning. She ordered me to go to work," he adds.

"So, she's ok?" Amanda wonders.

"She'll be back, in a couple of days, good as new," he insists.

Munch chimes in, "I didn't know she had an appendix."

"What are you talking about?" Nick joins the conversation.

"I thought that she said she had an appendectomy when she was fifteen," John insists.

"You must be thinking of someone else," Fin argues.

"Whatever."

* * *

He makes it back to the hospital, a few minutes, before eight in the evening. She's reading a magazine, when he comes into the room. He tosses a duffle bag on her bed.

"I brought you clothes."

"You went to my place?"

"They're clean clothes, that you left in that bag, at my apartment."

"Oh," she recalls.

"So are you going to tell me what's going on, or are you going to make me interrogate you?"

"I haven't decided yet."

"Spill."

"They said that I can go home, tonight. The nurse just has to bring the papers."

"That's great, now spill."


	35. Say Something

"Have a seat."

He stands beside her bed, with his arms crossed, and a scowl on his face. He shakes his head. "I'll stand," he argues.

"You should sit."

He reluctantly takes a seat. He scoots the chair closer to the bed.

"What's going on?"

"I need to tell you something."

"Obviously."

"You're not going to like it."

"I am sure that I won't."

"Please, just let me tell you."

"Ok."

"And take a minute, before you say anything."

"I will try."

"I am pregnant."

He doesn't say anything. He just looks at her, in disbelief.

"Say, something," she prompts him.

"What?"

"Anything."

"You just told me not to say anything."

"Say, something," she insists.

"I don't understand," he admits.

She sits up. She scoots the tray table away from her. She pushes the covers down, and sits up, on the side of the bed.

"I should have told you sooner, but I didn't know how to."

"Why are you telling me now?"

"I don't have a choice," she points out.

"So why are we here?"

"Last night, I started having contractions."

"Contractions? How far along are you?"

She allows a moment of silence. He looks at her, and tries not to make any assumptions. In her hospital gown, it is impossible to guess how far along she is.

"Thirty four weeks," she finally answers.

"What?" he swallows hard, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I..."

"You what?"

"I haven't known, that long," she insists.

"Olivia..." he begins to choke up.

"I didn't find out, until I was pretty far along."

"How long is pretty far?"

"Eighteen weeks."

"Why didn't you..."

She shakes her head, "I don't know. I couldn't, I guess."

"Why would you put yourself through this?"

"Who knows."

"You should have told me."

"I was afraid."

"Of what?"

"That you would react the same way that Amanda did."

"You told Amanda?"

"She was there the day that I found out."

"So she knows?"

"No, I told her that I wasn't going to go through with it."

"I don't know what to say."

"I know that I should have said something, but I couldn't. It gets harder, and harder to hide, but... I know that I can't tell anyone else. I know that they won't understand."

"You don't know that."

"Fin," she pauses, "I don't even understand it."

"So what are you going to do?"

"I am not going to tell anyone. I can't."

"But..."

"I am not going to keep it. I can't. I know that. I know what that childhood is like, and I would never subject someone to that."

"You should have told me."

"I couldn't."

"It's no wonder you're still having a hard time."

"I just want this nightmare to be over with."

"Olivia, it's never going to be over. You're going to have to find a way, to cope. Even after you have this baby, it won't be over. Because even though, it won't be with you, it will be somewhere. It will be out in the world, somewhere, and you'll wonder. You'll wonder how it's doing, and what it looks like. You'll wonder if it's ok. You'll wonder what if. You'll always wonder."

"I know."

"Do you know what it is?"

She shakes her head, "No. It doesn't matter."

"I guess not."

"It's not fair," she points out.

"I know."

"I have wanted a child, for... a long time. It's as if mankind is playing a really cruel joke on me. I am never going to have another child. I can't have this one. I don't want this one."

"But it doesn't make it any easier, does it?"

"No," the tears start to fall, "because now, there is always going to be a piece missing."

"Shh! I got you," he hugs her.

She cries on his shoulder. He doesn't let go. She holds onto him, with everything. After a while, she lets go, and sits back up. She looks at him. He hands her a tissue.

"I just want this to be over, but last night..."-

* * *

_She sits up, and realizes what's happening. She feels the contraction. She doesn't touch her stomach. For sixteen weeks, she has known. She has felt the baby moving, and growing. She refuses to touch her stomach, and acknowledge that it is there. Even, in the middle of an interrogation, when it would kick her in the ribs. _

_She swallows hard, and she lets the wall fall, for a second. She ignores her head. Her hand flies to her stomach. She swallows hard, trying to stave off the tears._

* * *

"I know."

"All I could think about, was that it was too early. I don't want it, but..."

"But that doesn't mean you don't want it to be healthy."

"Most of the time, all I can think about, is it being over, but last night, I just kept praying for a few more weeks."

"You prayed?" he smiles.

"Yeah," she realizes.

"It's been a while, hasn't it?"

She nods.


	36. Overdue

Several more weeks pass. Olivia, and Fin are sitting at their desks, when Cragen comes out of his office.

"Benson, Tutola, my office, now," he calls for them.

Olivia looks at Fin. He looks at her. "What'd we do now?" he whispers as they make their way to his office. She simply shrugs. They make it to his office. Fin closes the door.

"What's going on, Captain?"

"It's been kind of a slow week, here. I have an assignment for the two of you."

"Undercover?" Fin hopes.

"No. I am going to loan you to Bedford PD. There has been a string of rapes, up there. They have asked me if I had any bodies I could loan, so I chose the two of you. It will just be for a couple of days. I know it's afternoon, already, but go home, and get some clothes packed. Then head up there. You should start soon, though, because we're supposed to get a nasty storm."

"Ok," they nod, in agreement.

* * *

An hour later, they leave the city. On the way out of town, Fin looks over at her.

"Are you sure that you're up to this?"

"I'm fine," she insists.

"When is that supposed to drop?"

"A week ago."

"Liv! You should have told the Captain that someone else should go."

"I'll be fine."

"Really? How do you know? A gut feeling?"

"To get technical, my cervix has shown no change for weeks."

"We don't need to go there."

"I've been at two, for three weeks. I don't think anything is going to happen, anytime soon."

"And if it does?"

"It won't," she argues.

"If it doesn't?"

"I'll be scheduled for induction in a week."

"If anything happens..."

"We will turn around," she promises.

* * *

Traffic is slow, it's rush hour traffic. Two hours later, the storm hits. They pull off the road. They pull into the parking lot, of a motel, to wait it out. They sit there, for twenty minutes, listening to the radio.

"He sent us out in a hurricane," Fin comments.

"What time is it?"

"A quarter until eight," looking at his watch.

"Let's just go."

"We can try, if you want," he offers.

Olivia's phone rings. She grabs it, and puts it to her ear.

"Benson," she answers.

"Olivia, it's Captain Cragen."

"What's going on, Captain?"

"Where are you guys, right now?"

"Some motel parking lot, trying to wait out the storm."

"Just get a room, for the night. The storm isn't going anywhere fast."

"You sent us out in a hurricane," Olivia points out.

"Just get a room," he hangs up.

She looks at Fin.

"What did he say?"

"To get a room, for the night."

"Ok," she nods, in agreement.

They check into a room, with two double beds, a mini fridge, and a microwave. He takes a seat on the bed. She flips on the TV. Within ten minutes the electric goes out.

"Well, now what?" she sighs.

"I'll go back out to the car. I have candles, flashlights, and a first aid kit in the trunk."

"Ok."

He returns a few minutes later, with a handful of items. He strategically places the candles around the room.

"Do you have a lighter?" she questions.

"I don't need one."

"So we're just going to pretend the candles work?"

He tips the candle upside down, and turns it on. He turns all of them on.

"They're safer than candles that have fire."

"Why do you have all of that stuff in your car?"

"For times like these."

"I never pictured you as a boy scout."

"Yeah, well after that storm, last year, I decided it was better to be safe, than left in the dark for a week."

"What else is in your goody bag?"

"First aid supplies. Some dehydrated food."

"Yum," she scoffs.

He digs into the side pocket. "And a deck of cards."

"Deal 'em up," she challenges him.

She takes a seat on one end of the bed. He takes a seat on the other. There is no table in the room, only a pair of night stands. He deals the cards between them. Two hours later he's down forty six dollars, and his knife. She yawns.

"You ready to call it a night?" he questions.

"I took all of your money, so yeah."

"That isn't all of my money," he argues.

"You might need some," she smiles.

"My mother warned me about girls like you."

"Girls like me?"

"The ones who would sucker me."

"I didn't sucker you. You chose the game. You lost, fair, and square."

"Not forty six hands in a row."

"There is a first time for everything."

"I still think you cheated."

She rolls her eyes, and gets off the bed. She grabs her bag, and heads to the bathroom. She changes into her pajama's, and brushes her teeth. She washes her face, and puts her moisturizing cream on.


	37. One Problem

She comes out of the bathroom, and he's waiting to get in. He notices that she's wearing a strange look, on her face.

"You ok?"

"Yeah, I'm fine.""You sure?"

"I almost dropped my necklace down the drain."

"Ok."

Ten minutes later, they're both in bed. She pulls the covers over her head. A couple of hours later, she climbs out of bed, and goes to the bathroom. She carries her battery operated candle into the bathroom, with her. She exits the bathroom, and looks at her watch.

"Why are you awake?"

"I had to pee."

"What time is it?"

"Just after midnight," she reveals.

"Turn the light off."

She doesn't say anything.

"Olivia, turn the light off," he repeats.

"We have a problem," she reveals.

"Just one? Olivia we're stuck in some motel, just off the interstate. There is a hurricane going on outside. We spent hours playing poker, and listening to AM radio. There is no cable, and no electric. Our cell phones aren't working. The telephone line is down. The radio in the car isn't working. We're stuck in the middle of nowhere, for who knows how long. There is flooding, and there are trees down, all over the place. We aren't getting out, and no one is getting in. This is the perfect scene for a horror movie. We'll probably end up murdered by the morning, and you think now is the time to point out, that we have a problem?"

"We have a bigger problem," she explains.

"A bigger problem? What bigger problem? There isn't anything that could be worse, is there? Did you see a bedbug, or a cockroach? Was there a rat, in the bathroom?"

"Actually the place is surprisingly clean," she admits.

"There is no hot water. Unless the sewage is backing up into the bathtub, I don't think things could get much worse."

"I disagree."

"How could they get worse?" he scowls.

"I could think of a lot of ways."

"I don't want to spend all night playing what if. I would rather just go to sleep."

Olivia swallows hard, "I don't think that is going to happen."

"Why not?"

"I don't know how to tell you this."

"Tell me, what?"

"When I was in the bathroom..."

"You saw the monster, from the black lagoon?"

"My water broke," she replies, dryly.

"What?!"

"My water broke," she repeats.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," she nods.

"Ok."

"Ok?! How can you be so calm?"

"I am sure that we have time."

"Does it matter? Even if it doesn't happen until morning, no one is going to help us. We're stuck here."

"Ok. Let me go next door."

"Go next door? What is that going to do?"

"The clerk at the desk said the pharmacy next door would stay open all night. They have a generator. If you're going to have a baby, we're going to need some supplies."

"Supplies?"

"I'll be back in five minutes."

"I tell you my water broke, and your response is that you'll be back in five minutes."

"Do you trust me?"

"With my life."

"Then trust me now."

"Fine," she agrees.

He walks next door, to the pharmacy. The owner sits behind the counter.

"Can I help you?"

"Baby stuff?"

"Aisle three," he answers.

Fin grabs a cart. He tosses the last case of water, into the cart. He finds some non-perishable food items. He moves onto the baby aisle. He finds that it is the most bare. There are two packs of newborn diapers left, he grabs them both. He takes the last two boxes of wipes. He grabs a pack of pacifiers, and thermometer. He finds that there is a two pack of long-sleeved onsies. He tosses it in the cart, too. He grabs the last pack of receiving blankets. There is an overpriced diaper bag at the end of the aisle, but he tosses it in, too. He grabs a few other necessities, and moves the register. The owner rings up his merchandise rather quickly.

"Do you have any formula?"

"We ran out hours ago. I put out everything that I had."

"I'll just have to take what I've got then."

"Cash only," the owner reminds him.

Fin returns to the motel room, with his bags full of stuff. Olivia sits on the edge of her bed. She holds her watch, in her hand.

"How's it going?"

"Every eight minutes," she tells him.

"Maybe the baby will wait until morning."

"I have my doubts."

"Just relax."

"Just relax? I am about to give birth, in a motel room, off the interstate, in the middle of a hurricane. How can you tell me to relax?"

"You need to stay calm."

"Fin, I am going to shoot you," she warns him.

"You can't shoot me," he argues.

"Why not?"

"Who is going to deliver the baby, if you shoot me?"

"Shit! You can't..."

"I don't think you have any other choice."


	38. Like A Hurricane

She squeezes his hand. He keeps an eye on the hands of her watch.

"They're getting really close together," he points out.

"I know I can feel them," she wants to chuck something at his head.

"Why can't you just be normal? It takes some women over twenty four hours of labor to deliver their first child."

She rolls her eyes, "Have you ever known me to be normal?"

"Good point. Are you ready for this?"

"Are you kidding me? It's two o'clock in the morning. I am in the middle of nowhere, with no power, about to give birth."

"I bought bleach," he blurts out.

"For what?"

"For the bathtub."

"You want me to give birth, in a bathtub?"

"Are you going to do it in the bed, and then have to sleep in it?"

"Good point. Fin, but I can't do this."

"Olivia, it's a little late now. I am going to get the first aid kit out."

"Is there any demerol in there?"

"I wish," he huffs, as he heads into the bathroom. He's barely stepped into the bathroom, when she comes in, behind him.

"I can't wait," she tells him.

"Can't wait? What are you talking about?"

"I have to push."

"Olivia you've been in labor, for two hours..."

"I want to push."

"I don't think that..."

"Fin! Just shut up."

He falls silent. She climbs into the bathtub. She looks at him.

"How do you want to do this?" he questions.

"Not here, not now, not ever."

"You have none of those options."

"Just close your eyes."

"That isn't an option either."

"Just get it over with," she begs.

He grabs his flashlight, "Ok."

He holds the flashlight up, but he doesn't look. He waits for her go ahead. She looks down.

"Fin?"

"Huh?" he looks at her face.

"It's right there. I can see it," she grimaces.

"Are you ready?"

"No, are you?" she replies.

He is armed with a towel. On the counter a bulb syringe, and a pair of scissors are already laid out.

"As I am ever going to be," he nods.

"Ok," she begins to push.

He watches, as a head begins to come out. By the second push he's guiding the shoulders out. Olivia screams in pain. She gives a third push. He catches the baby. The baby turns bright red, and begins to cry. He ties the cord off, with a zip tie. He cuts just above the tie. He clears the baby's airways, as it cries. He wraps the baby up in the towel.

"You did it," he tells her.

She's as pale as a ghost.

"Liv, are you ok?"

She takes a breath, and the color comes back to her cheeks. The tears are uncontrollable. "I'm ok. How did you know what you were doing?"

"I have watched a lot of TV."

"Is it ok?"

"Perfect. You want to hold it?" he stares at the perfect baby. It has chubby pink cheeks. It screams at the top of it's lungs. There is a full head, of dark hair. The baby reminds him of Olivia. She doesn't say anything.

"It's ok, if you don't," he assures her.

"What is it?"

"I don't know. I didn't look," he admits, looking at the swaddled baby, who is still crying.

Olivia reaches out, for the baby. He places the screaming newborn, in her arms. Olivia unwraps the baby, and takes a peak. She quickly re-wraps the infant. She just stares at the baby. She hands the baby back to Fin. She doesn't say anything.

After the ordeal is over, Fin carefully wipes the goo off the baby. Olivia takes a deep breath.

"I'm going to go in the other room," he offers, giving her a moment to herself.

He sits her bag inside the door, along with one of the shopping bags from the pharmacy. He closes the door. She turns the shower on, the cold water hits her. Fin turns on another one of the candles.

He lays the newborn on the bed. He opens packages, and bags. He quickly slides a diaper on, under the baby. He smiles at the newborn, who is no longer wailing.

"Look, I'm sorry about this, but I'm pretty rusty. It's been a long time since I had to do anything with a baby."

The baby just looks up at him. He puts the white long sleeved onesie on, and a cap. He wraps the chubby cheeked baby in the blanket it. Several minutes later Olivia emerges from the bathroom, in clean, dry pajamas. Her wet hair is pulled into a bun. She stands in the bathroom doorway, just staring at her partner. He sits at the edge of her bed. He holds the newborn. He stares at the brand new baby, in silence. He looks up at Olivia, but says nothing.

"Thank you," she tells him.

"You owe me," he points out.

"Next time you have a baby, I'm there."

"Imma hold you to that," he jokes.

She takes a seat on the bed, next to him.

"Now what?" he asks, innocently.

She holds out her arms. He carefully places the baby in her arms. Olivia just stares at the baby, in awe. It's impossible for her, not to see herself, in the face of the newborn.

"Hi," she says, softly.

"Do you want me to give you a minute?" he questions.

She simply nods. He steps into the bathroom.

She looks at the brand new baby.

"Hi, little one. Welcome to world," the tears trail down her cheeks.


	39. Choices

He watches through a crack in the bathroom door. He steps out, unable to watch any longer. She holds the newborn, and sobs. He makes his way over to her. She looks up at him. He holds out his arms. She carefully places the baby in his arms.

"I need a breath of fresh air."

He nods, understandingly. She pulls her jacket on, and heads for the door. She opens the door, and steps out of the motel room. She steps onto the sidewalk, and closes the door, behind her. It's dark outside. The wind is still blowing, and it's still raining. She leans against the siding on the building. She sobs, uncontrollably.

Inside, he sits on the bed, with the newborn. The room is dimly light, by the candles. He just stares at the innocent baby, with chubby cheeks. He smiles at the little one.

"Hi, there," he begins. A pair of eyes flies open. "It's nice to meet you," He leans against the wall, and pulls his legs onto his bed. He stretches out, as he holds the infant in his arms. "I know that this is hard for you to understand. Maybe one day you will. Just know, you're perfect. You didn't do anything wrong," he adds, softly. He kisses the baby's head. "You got that, little girl? I hope that you're as tough as she is. But I pray, that you aren't as stubborn." The little girl's eyes close. Fin just watches her, for a long time, as she sleeps.

The blowing rain finally begins to get to Olivia. She wipes the tears, and the rain, from her face, and she turns around. She pushes the door of the motel room, open. She throws the hood off her head, and takes the jacket off. She tosses it on a chair. She looks over, and finds Fin asleep, in his bed. The baby is curled up, on his chest, sound asleep. The blanket is draped over her. She stands there, in silence, for several moments.

"Fin," she whispers.

His eyes open, as he's just barely dozed off.

"Yeah, Olivia?"

"I..." she looks at the baby, with a pained expression on her face.

"Why don't you get some rest? I've got her," he insists.

"Ok," she agrees.

Hours later, she is awakened, by the sound of crying. She looks around the room, and the crying stops. Fin tosses the wet diaper in the trash. He wraps the baby back up, in her blanket. He lies her in the middle of the bed, and goes to the bathroom to wash his hands. He places a pacifier, in her mouth. He reaches for his phone, and checks the time. He finds he still has no service. The landline is still dead, too. He scoops the little girl up. She fusses, as he tries to soothe her.

Olivia watches silently, from the other side of the room. She lies on her side, facing his bed. He walks back, and fourth, trying to soothe the baby. He has no idea that Olivia is awake.

"I know little girl. I wish I could do more."

Olivia sits up, on the side of the bed. He turns around, and looks at her.

"I'm sorry, did I wake you up?"

She shakes her head, "I have to pee."

He nods.

She disappears into the bathroom. The candle on the bathroom counter lights up the small room. She washes her hands. She dries her hands on the hand towel. She freezes, in the mirror. She just looks at herself. The door is closed, and she is alone, in the bathroom. She's pale, and she's not wearing a trace of make-up. There are dark circles under her eyes, and her hair looks greasy. She aches, all over. She feels as if she's been run over, by a truck. To be more accurate, she feels as if a truck has run through her. She hears the baby crying, in the other room. She tries to block it out.

"Make it stop," she whispers, to herself, on the verge of a break down.

She looks up, and finds that her reflection remains unchanged.

She exhales, "What kind of a monster are you? You can't even stand the sound of her crying?" She swallows hard, to keep from crying. She leaves the mirror, and heads for the door. She steps out into the room. The baby is still crying.

"Fin, please," she begs.

"I know you're tired. I'm sorry."

"Can you make her stop, please?"

"She's hungry," he tells her.

"Feed her," Olivia responds.

"It's not that easy. Liv, the store didn't have any formula. They were out. People came in, and bought most of the diapers, and all of the baby formula, before the storm hit. We were lucky there was anything left at all. If it had been in the city, there wouldn't have been a thing left on the shelf."

"How much longer are we going to be stuck here?"

He looks at his phone. "I managed to get a hold of a dispatcher, on the portable, about a half an hour ago. Nobody is going to be here, for a while. At least daylight. She said probably closer to noon."

"What time is it, now?"

"A quarter until five."

"Maybe we should just pack up, and check out, and head out."

"We can't."

"Why not?"

"Because there are trees down, on both ends of the street. We're not going anywhere, until they're out of the way. We don't know how many roads are flooded, either."

"So you're saying we're going to be here, for a while?"

"Yes," he nods, as he holds the crying baby. With each passing second her crying grows louder.

"Give her to me," Olivia snaps.

"What are you going to do? We don't have any formula."

"I know."

He looks at her, "Liv, you don't have..."

"I am not going to let her starve."

"Are you sure?"

"I'll be ok."

"No, you won't."

"You're right, I probably won't. I'm not going to be fine, no matter what. But, I won't be able to live with myself, knowing that she's crying because she's hungry, and I could have fixed it, but I was too selfish to do anything."

"Olivia I think this is a bad idea."

"Just give her to me," she insists.

He hands her the baby. She carries the baby, over to her bed. He turns out the candle, on his side of the room, as he crawls back into bed. He pulls the covers over his head.

She takes a seat on the bed. She's physically, and emotionally drained, as she takes the pacifier, from the wailing little girl.


	40. Where To Go From Here

When he wakes, there is sun shining, through the window. He stretches, and climbs out of bed. He turns off the candles. He stops, next to Olivia's bed. She is sound asleep, with a newborn snuggled up against her chest, with her ear pressed to her heart. Olivia holds tightly to her, with one arm. He steps back, and grabs the camera out of his bag. He turns off the flash, and snaps a picture. Neither of them stir. He swaps the memory card out, for a new one. He returns the camera to his bag, and puts the card in his pocket.

He quietly makes his way back to Olivia's bed. He slowly, and carefully moves her arm. He places it at her side. He gently scoops the baby up. He carries her over to his bed, tiptoeing the entire time. He lays the sleepy baby on the bed, and grabs the diaper bag. He pulls out a diaper, and a pack of wipes. He slowly unwraps her. As the blanket falls, the cool air hits her tiny legs. Her eyes open, and she looks at him, in disgust. She doesn't offer to cry, as he carefully unbuttons the snaps on the crotch of the onesie. He quickly switches the wet diaper out, for a fresh, dry one.

Her bright eyes stare at him, the entire time. He skillfully snaps the onesie back together. He wraps her back up. He tosses the diaper in the trash, and then goes to the bathroom, to wash his hands. He changes into clean clothes, while he's in there. When he returns the newborn is still lying on the center of his bed. He scoops her up. She just looks at him, in silence.

"Morning, princess," he smiles, as he takes a seat, on the edge of the bed, with her in his arms. She blinks, as he holds her. He studies her, carefully. He slips the cap off of her head, for a moment, to look at her thick, dark hair. She squirms, in protest. He quickly returns the hat to her head. She stares up at him, with big, slate colored eyes. She's got chubby cheeks. She looks like a cherub, so sweet, and innocent. Her fist flies into her mouth. Without a word, he reaches for the diaper bag. He pulls out a pacifier. He swaps the fist out, for a pacifier. She takes a couple of sucks, and then looks at him, as if she's been betrayed. She allows it to fall out, onto his lap. He shakes his head.

"I can't fool you, can I?"

He hears covers, rustling, from the other side of the room. He looks over, and finds Olivia kicking her covers off. Her arm goes from her side, to her chest. She realizes that something is missing, before her eyes even open. She opens her eyes, and finds Fin sitting on the bed, across from her, holding the baby. She just looks at them. It takes her eyes a moment to adjust to the light.

"Good morning," he greets her.

"Can we go home, now?" she wonders.

"I haven't been outside yet. I don't know what's going on, out there. Do you want me to find out?"

"I just want this to be over," she answers.

He looks at the baby, and then looks at her. He doesn't say anything. She rises. She walks over to him, and holds out her hands.

"Are you sure?"

"You can't take her outside," Olivia responds.

"Ok," he nods, slipping the baby into her arms.

He grabs his jacket, and leaves the motel room. As he steps outside he can hear voices. He looks past the parking lot. He sees trucks, down the street. He makes his way down the sidewalk, to the office. He pulls the glass doors open, and steps into the lobby. He makes his way to the desk. The manager sits at the desk.

"Can I help you?" he questions.

"My partner is hoping to go home, any word on how much damage there is?" he inquires.

"They're down the street cleaning up the trees, now. They should be done, within the hour. There are a lot of trees down, in the area."

"How long before I can get to the interstate?"

"It's a straight shot from here, and this is the first street they've cleaned, in this neighborhood."

"So, how long?"

"Give 'em about an hour, and you should be out of here. I'm not going to say that it's going to be an easy trip, but you should be able to make it."

"Is there a hospital nearby?"

"Which way are you heading?"

"Back to the city."

"Once you get out on the interstate, there's one on the next exit, if you're headed back to the city. It's about a mile, or so up the road."

"Do you know when the phone lines will be working, again?"

"I couldn't tell ya, sorry."

"Thanks," he nods, and leaves the lobby.

He heads into the parking lot. He decides to take a look around. He makes his way, down the street, surveying the damage. On both ends of the street there are trees down. The tree service works on the trees that stand between him, and the interstate. After about half an hour of walking, he returns to the room. He peels off his jacket, and tosses it on the bed.

"Good news, we can get out of here as soon as the tree people get finished."

"I'm packed."

"We'll have to check out."

"Ok," she agrees. She sits on the edge of the bed. The newborn sits behind her, on the middle of the bed, wrapped up, sound asleep.

"She passed out?"

"I think she's in a milk coma," Olivia admits.

He takes a seat next to her. "So, Liv, what's the plan?"

"What do you mean?"

"When we leave the motel?"

Olivia shrugs, "I don't know."

"There is a hospital, about a mile from here."

"Ok," she nods.

"We can stop, and get her checked out."

"Ok," Olivia nods.

"Then we can go back to the city."

He loads up the car. She climbs into the back seat, with the baby. He doesn't say a word. He checks out, and then returns to the car. He looks in his rearview.

"Are you ready?"

She simply nods. The look on her face tells him it still hasn't hit her, yet. She looks numb, as if she's completely shutdown. She sits in the backseat, holding the newborn. The little girl sleeps, but she doesn't even look at her. She just holds her, and looks forward, out the windshield, as they leave the parking lot.


	41. Never

He pulls into the hospital parking lot. She doesn't say anything, as he opens the door for her. She gets out, and hands him the baby. He holds her closely, so the cool, morning air won't hit her. She says nothing, as she walks through the parking lot, instead she stares at the ground. She stares at the ground. She doesn't watch her partner's back, like she usually does. She follows him into the hospital. They find a nurse, sitting at the reception area. There are a few lights on, due to the hospital's back up generator. The emergency room waiting area is empty.

"Can I help you?" she looks up, at them.

Fin looks at Olivia, expecting her to freeze. He's just about to answer, when she begins.

"She picked a bad night to be born."

The nurse looks at the baby, in Fin's arms. She then looks at Olivia.

"I take it that you didn't make it to the hospital, in time," the nurse surmises.

"No."

"Come with me," the nurse instructs.

She leads them to a room, in the emergency department. She hands Olivia some forms. She smiles, kindly.

"I am going to have you fill these out, while I take a look at her. Ok?"

Olivia just nods, as she sits in the corner of the room. Fin hands the baby to the nurse. She undresses her, and then proceeds to weigh her, and measure her. The baby squirms, but doesn't cry. She puts a diaper back on her, and wraps her back up in the blanket. She hands the little girl back to Fin.

"Does she have a name?" the nurse looks at Olivia.

"No," she shakes her head.

"Not yet," Fin adds.

"Ok. I'm going to go grab the doctor, for you," she leaves the room.

Ten minutes later, the nurse returns, with the doctor. He examines the baby. The nurse gives her a couple of shots. Fin carefully redresses the baby. The doctor smiles at them.

"I am giving her a clean bill of health. She's perfect. Eight pounds and eight ounces, and twenty two inches. Everything looks great. You can take her home," he informs them.

Neither Fin, or Olivia say anything. The doctor leaves the room. The nurse lingers. She looks at Fin, and then Olivia. She touches her arm.

"Why don't you, and I go in the other room, so that I can check you out?" she offers.

"That isn't necessary," Olivia argues.

"It will put my mind at ease."

"I don't think that's necessary."

"I've been an labor, and delivery nurse for twenty years. I'll make it quick, I promise."

Olivia nods, and leaves the room. The nurse checks her out, in less than five minutes. She leads her back to the other room. She stops in the doorway.

"I'll be back in a few to check on you. Take your time," she tells them, closing the door, behind her.

Olivia takes a seat, on in the hard plastic chair, in the corner of the room.

"What did she say?" he questions.

"Everything looks fine," Olivia admits.

She doesn't make eye contact. Without a word, he places the baby in her arms. She looks up, at him, questioningly. He turns, and heads for the door.

"Where are you going?" she asks.

"I'm going to go see if I can find a cup of coffee. We had a long night. Besides, I think that you need a minute."

She nods, and he leaves the room. She watches, as the door closes. She looks at the baby, in her arms. The little girl stares up at her. She's wearing a yellow cap, which Olivia slips off. She runs her fingers through the little one's hair. It's thick, and dark. She places the cap back on her head, so it won't get cold. She's wrapped in a yellow, fleece blanket. Olivia unwraps her. She looks at her feet. Ten little toes. The little girl starts to squirm, so she wraps her back up. She looks at the face, of the little girl. She is met, with a pair of slate colored eyes. She has chubby cheeks.

"I don't know what I am supposed to say, here," Olivia admits, "I don't think that sorry would be enough. I wish it was. I wish... a lot of things. I am sorry, but I just can't do this."

Fin returns, ten minutes later, with some coffee. He finds Olivia right where he left her. He takes a seat, on the stool, in front of her.

"Are you ready to go?" he asks, softly.

She simply nods.

"What did you decide?"

Before she can answer there is a knock on the door. The nurse enters the room. Olivia rises, from her chair. She swallows hard, and kisses the little girl, on the forehead. Without a word, she hands the baby to the nurse, and keeps walking. Fin follows her out of the room. The nurse holds the little girl, needing no explanation.

Before they can make it out of the emergency department, the baby starts crying. With each step, she grows louder. Olivia pauses, for a moment, at the empty reception desk. Fin looks at her. She swallows hard. He says nothing.

"Can I ask you something?"

He simply nods.

"Why didn't you ever tell me that you were so good, with babies?"

"It didn't matter."

"Fin?"

"Yeah?"

"You had a name for her, didn't you?"

He furrows his brow, "What makes you think that?"

"If she was your little girl, what would you have called her?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Please," she says, quietly.

He smiles, "I always said if I had a little girl, I would name her Audrey. That was my grandmother's name."

Olivia swallows hard, and turns to walk away. He follows her, towards the exit. As they approach the doors, they can still hear the screaming baby. Olivia freezes, two feet from the doorway. She turns around, and looks at him. The tears stream down her face. He takes the napkin, that is wrapped around his cup of coffee, and hands it to her. She wipes the tears, but they fall faster than she can catch them. Without a word, he wraps his arms around her. She buries her face, in her shoulder. He lets go, and he looks at her.

"Are you going to be ok?" he wonders.

She shakes her head, "I'm never going to be ok."


	42. Noble Strength

"I can't do this."

"You don't have to do anything," he reminds her.

She shakes her head, "You don't understand."

"I get it."

"No, you don't," she argues.

"Then explain it to me," he says, softly.

"I can't do this. I can't leave her. I..." she trails off. She steps past him, and heads back down the hallway. She walks past the reception area, into the emergency department. The little girl screams, at the top of her lungs. The nurse looks at her, but doesn't say a word.

"I can't do this," Olivia admits, with tears rolling down her cheeks.

The nurse places the baby, in her arms. "It's ok, baby, I'm right here," Olivia tells her.

She instantly stops crying. Fin joins them.

"You didn't fill out a birth certificate," the nurse reveals.

Olivia looks up, Fin steps in. "If you give me the form, I'll fill it out."

The nurse hands him a clipboard. He takes it from her. She hands him an ink pen. He takes a seat, in a chair, against the wall. He begins to fill the form out. She looks at Olivia.

"Do you have a car seat?"

She just shakes her head. The nurse doesn't ask for an explanation. She simply disappears, around the corner. Fin points to the seat, next to him. Olivia reluctantly sits down.

"I can't leave her."

"Liv, no one is asking you to."

"You're telling me, that you think I'm not going to completely screw her up?"

"Is that what you think?"

She shrugs, "I don't know what I think. I don't know what I feel. I can't explain it. I just know, that I can't leave her, here, or anywhere else."

"That's because she's yours. She's part of you, even if she wasn't part of the plan."

"How am I going to do this? I..."

"We'll figure it out."

"I don't know if I can do this, on my own."

"You don't have to."

"I don't expect..."

"I won't hear it."

"But..." she tries to argue.

"What do you want me to write, under name?"

"Whatever you want," she answers.

"Princess, it is," he jokes.

"Within reason," she gives an addendum.

"You're sure?"

"It's not as if I have a name picked for her. Any name you choose for her, is going to be just as meaningful, if not more, than something I come up with, on the fly."

"You don't have to name her, today," he points out.

"Just pick something," she insists.

"Are you sure about that?"

"Fin, you delivered her, in a dark hotel, in the middle of the night, during a hurricane, in a bathtub. I think that it is ok, if you name her."

"Ok."

He writes something on the piece of paper. He flips it over. She signs the back of it. He scribbles something else on the paper, as she stares at the baby, who is now sound asleep, in her arms. She looks back, at him.

"Are you going to tell me, what it is?"

"I already told you," he responds.

The nurse returns, with a car seat, and a bag. She trades Fin for the clipboard.

"The bag is just some free samples, and some coupons," she tells them, "We hold a car seat drive every year. This year one of our sponsors donated a hundred brand new car seats."

"Thank you," Fin smiles.

"I see that you came up with a name," she looks to Olivia.

"I didn't. He did."

"He did a good job, it's a pretty name."

Fin looks at Olivia, "Let's go home."

Olivia nods. He carries the car seat, and the bag, to the car. She follows him, with the baby, in her arms. He buckles the car seat into the car. She carefully snaps her in. She slides into the back seat, next to her. He closes the door. He climbs in the driver's seat, and turns on the car. As he backs out of the parking spot, she breaks the silence.

"Are you going to tell me what her name is?"

"You'll find out," he teases.

"When?"

"When you get a copy of the birth certificate."

"How are we going to explain to the captain, that we didn't make it to Bedford?"

"_We_, are not. _You_ are going to do that."

"How? I wouldn't know where to start."

"Just tell the truth."

"He's going to ask."

"No he won't," Fin disagrees.

"How am I supposed to answer, when I can't even tell him her name?"

"Her name is Audrey Brielle," he reveals.

"Where did you come up with that?" she inquires.

"I told you, my grandmother's name was Audrey."

"And Brielle?"

"Does it matter?"

"No, not really," she admits.

She leans back in her seat. She looks at the sleeping baby. The blanket covers most of her body. Olivia stares at her face. She has chubby cheeks, and looks so sweet, as she sleeps.

"Audrey," Olivia whispers.

Her eyes flutter open.

* * *

They eventually make it home. He carries the car seat up the stairs, into the apartment. She opens the door. He goes to sit her down, on the floor. Olivia closes the door.

"No, not there," she warns.

"Why not?"

"That's the spot," she reminds him.

"Right, the dead lady stain. I'll put her on the couch."

He sits the car seat on the couch. She squirms, as Olivia unfastens her.

"I am going to go."

"You're going to leave me alone, with her? I..." she begins to panic.

"Relax. There are diapers in the bag. I won't be gone, that long."

"Where are you going?" she wonders, with a hint of panic in her voice.


	43. Guilt

_A/N: This chapter was supposed to be 43. I am sorry that I messed it up. 43 is now 44, but in order to make it up I am going to publish chap. 45 too. _

He moves the empty car seat. He takes a seat, next to Olivia, on the couch. He looks at her, as she holds the baby. He knows that she's nervous, but he can already see how natural it comes to her.

"Are you going to keep her?"

"We already went over this. I couldn't do it. I know that you might not agree. I probably shouldn't do this. Chances are, that I am going to completely screw this up. I'll probably screw her up. I just..." she trails off.

"Olivia it's ok."

"No, it's not."

"I just didn't know that I could love her."

"Olivia, look at me," he insists.

She turns, and looks at him. Her nostrils flare, as the tears start to roll down her cheeks. She doesn't say anything, she lets him do the talking.

"Listen to me, carefully?"

"Ok," she nods.

"No one is going to be mad at you. This is your choice."

"I am afraid that they won't understand. Hell, I don't even know if I understand."

"No one, is going to fault you for loving her. Nobody is going to fault you, for loving your own child."

"But after everything I have been through..."

"Maybe she's not a punishment. Maybe she's the light, at the end of the tunnel. Did you ever think that?"

"Obviously you did."

"I think a lot of things."

"How long have you been thinking about a name?"

"Since you told me that you were pregnant."

"Why?"

"Every baby should have a name."

"But I wasn't going to keep her."

"Just in case."

"And if she had been a boy?"

"There was no boy name."

"Why not?"

"Because she's a girl. I only pictured a little girl."

"Is she what you pictured?"

"For the most part."

"Why did you have a name?"

"That's a good question. Obviously it wasn't my place. She's not mine."

"That's not what I meant."

"I didn't know if you could do it."

"Do what? I told you I didn't want her."

"I didn't know if you could live with giving her, to someone else. You wanted her, for such a long time. Even if it wasn't the way you planned, even if it happened, under the worst possible circumstances... you always wanted her. You just didn't know it, yet."

"How did you know?"

"Cause I know you. You can't tell me that you didn't have a picture, in your head, too, of what she might look like."

"I didn't imagine this. I..."

"Olivia I am not going to lie to you. This is going to be the hardest thing that you have ever done, in your life. I know. I made a lot of mistakes, as a parent. You will too. Sometimes, I wonder if I did anything right."

"How do you ever know, that you did enough?"

"You don't. It takes a lot of work. It takes a lot of prayer, and a little bit of luck. I look at Ken, and I know I didn't do the best that I could. I also know, he wouldn't be who he is, today, if I hadn't made some mistakes. He's a good person, he's made me proud, and that's all that matters."

"What if..." she begins.

"If you play that game, you will never leave this apartment, again. Just live."

"I don't know how to do this. I don't know how to love her," she admits.

"You already do."

"What if it's not enough?"

"I'm here, for you, and for her."

"Why are you doing this?"

"I've got your back."

"You don't have to do this."

"I know."

"Thank you."

"Olivia, there is one thing..."

"What's that?"

"You need to promise me that starting next week, you'll visit a counselor, regularly. Every week. You can't do your best, if you're not at your best."

She looks at the baby, in her arms, "Ok," she nods, in agreement.

"I should go."

"Go, where?"

"In case you hadn't noticed, you have a baby, and nothing for her. I am going to go to the store."

"Wait."

"You can do this, on your own. I won't be gone, that long. I'm taking your card," he adds.

"Wait," she repeats.

"What?"

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"I never had a father."

"I know."

"I don't want that for her. I want her to have someone in her life that she looks up to..."

He cuts her off, "I will be her male role model, if you want."

She shakes her head, "Fin, I meant what I said. I can't do this on my own."

"You can do anything."

"I don't want to do this, on my own," she clarifies.

"I know."

"And, if you want to be in her life... I don't know how to ask..." she pauses.

"Ask what?"

"She needs a father. She needs someone who she can call dad."

"I am sure that your prince is out there, somewhere, Olivia."

"No. I want someone who is always going to be there for her, from day one."

"Ok."

"I am asking you, if..."

"I said ok."

"Just like that?"

"You're probably my closest friend," he admits.

"True."

"And the truth is, I always wanted a second chance at being a parent. I would be happy to fill the role of her father, if you wanted me to."

"Why? Why would you agree to that? She's not yours. Fin, sometimes I just really don't understand you. Why would you want take on responsibility that isn't yours?"

"I hate to break it to you, but she's already got me wrapped around her finger."


	44. Hard Questions

_A/N: This was originally posted as chap 43, but it's really 44, sorry for the confusion._

"How are you going to go to the store, when there is no electricity?"

"Did you miss the stoplights that we drove through, on the way here?"

"I guess I wasn't paying attention."

"The storm must have headed up the coast, before it made landfall."

"You don't have to go," she insists.

"You know that I do."

* * *

He leaves the apartment, leaving her alone. Less than an hour later, there is a knock at the door. She gets off the couch, with the baby, in her arms. She goes to the door, and looks out the peephole.

"Um, hold on, a second, I'll be right there."

She grabs the baby, the car seat, and the diaper bag. The baby is sound asleep. She places the car seat on the bed. She fastens the baby into the car seat. She quickly makes her way back to the door. She unchains it, and pulls it open. She stares at the man, on the other side.

"Can I come in?"

She nods, unsure what he's doing there. She allows the door to close, behind him.

"Uh, if you don't mind me asking, what are you doing here?"

"I am asking myself that same question," he admits.

"Captain, I don't understand."

"Do you want to tell me what's going on?"

"I don't know what you mean," she insists.

He points to the couch. She nods. She takes a seat, on one end of the couch. He takes a seat on the other end.

"Can I get you anything?"

"Olivia, I am not really here on a social call."

"Then why are you here?" she nervously tucks a piece of her hair behind her ear.

"Your partner called, to check in. He told me that the two of you never made it to Bedford."

"I'm sorry, that was my fault."

"It doesn't matter. They caught the guy, which I would have relayed to the two of you, earlier, but I couldn't get a hold of you."

"Our phones weren't working."

"I know. I know that the two of you got caught in the middle of that storm."

"That still doesn't answer my question. Why are you here?"

"I told him that I could use a couple extra pairs of hands on the case we just caught."

"So, he's at the precinct?"

"He told me that he couldn't, today."

"Oh."

"He said that there was something he needed to take care of."

"I'm sorry. This is all my fault."

"When I asked him about what's going on, he wouldn't tell me."

"I see."

"He said that I should talk to you. I told him that I would call you."

"Why didn't you?"

"He said that I needed to talk to you, in person. He wanted me to come here."

"You shouldn't have come."

"Olivia what's going on?"

"It's complicated."

"Fin has been covering for you lately, what gives?"

"Captain, I don't want to talk about it."

"Olivia, I am giving you a free pass. Whatever you have going on, just tell me, and we can deal with it."

"You really shouldn't have come."

"Olivia whatever it is, you can tell me."

"You won't understand."

"I will help you, however I can. You should know, I can't help you, if you don't tell me what's going on."

"I know that."

"We all struggle, in our lives, with one thing, or another. We all have our demons. Sometimes we choose the wrong way to deal with those demons. If you have started down a road, that you don't know how to turn back on, I'll help you."

"You think that I've started drinking," it clicks, for her.

"Genetics predisposes us, life kicks us, and..."

She cuts him off, "I haven't started drinking. I am not an alcoholic. I am not doing drugs. It's nothing like that."

"Then why does your partner think that I need to talk to you, face to face?"

"I am certain that he has his reasons."

He nods understandingly, "Ok, now give me yours."

"I am telling you, you won't understand."

"Try me."

"Ok," she nods, swallowing hard, "I'm not sure where I should begin."

"At the beginning," he suggests.

"Right. Four, and a half months, after I was raped, I went in for some standard testing. I had put it off, for quite some time."

"Oh," his eyes lock on her face.

She stares at the ground, refusing to make eye contact. "What they told me, wasn't something that I was expecting to hear."

"Something came back positive?"

"Yeah," she nods, again.

"Obviously not something you can get rid of. Something serious?"

"Something lifelong," she confirms.

"Oh," his heart sinks.

"I spent a lot of time, trying to pretend that it wasn't happening. I spent a lot of time, denying it. I just didn't want to deal with it. Unfortunately, life doesn't work that way. You can't just ignore the problem, and hope it disappears."

"You're right, life doesn't work that way."

"And, ignoring it, doesn't help anything. It certainly doesn't make it go away."

"If only things worked that way."

"But they don't," she exhales.

"HIV?" he finally gets the question out.

"What?" she furrows her brow.

"You're HIV positive?"

"No," she shakes her head.

"You're not? AIDS?"

"No. I'm not."

"Then, you're right, I don't understand," he admits.


	45. Hard To Love

"I still don't know, how I didn't know. I guess that I just didn't want to see it."

"I'm lost," Cragen admits.

"I found out, that I was pregnant," she tells him solemnly.

"Oh," his heart sinks, "I didn't know."

"I didn't either, until I was eighteen weeks along. I was already in my second trimester."

"Olivia, I am so sorry."

"I knew that I couldn't do it. I knew I didn't want the kind of life for that child, that I had."

"I understand."

"I don't. I still don't."

"Fin knows?"

"I didn't tell him, at first. Amanda found out."

"She never said anything."

"I didn't want anyone to know. It was my problem. I wanted to deal with things, on my own, in my own time. I didn't want the pressure to make a decision, that I wasn't ready to make."

"Olivia, you don't have to talk about this, if you don't want to."

"I don't want to, but I have to. If I am going to move on, with my life, I have to."

"Ok, as long as you're sure."

"I hated myself, for letting it happen. I kept wondering, if I was being punished, and why."

"Liv..." he looks at her, compassionately.

"But I realized, that everything happens for a reason. And, even though I realized that, I still wasn't ready, to talk to anyone, about it. I don't know, if I'm even ready now."

"All wounds heal, with time."

"It was my worst nightmare, and I couldn't wake up. I had no control. There was nothing that I could do."

"I'm sorry."

"I spent a lot of time, feeling sorry for myself. It wasn't about me, anymore, though. It was about someone else. Eighteen weeks... that's a baby, not a ball of cells. I asked myself, what I would do, if I were in that situation. In this job, facing what we face, everyday, I knew I had to have convictions, on what I would do, because things happen, that we don't prepare for. I took the morning after pill, and I thought that I wouldn't have to worry about it. I thought, that I could breathe a sigh of relief. But, I couldn't, because it happened, anyway. I still got pregnant. I had never considered, what I would do, if I got pregnant. I didn't think, that I would have to."

"You shouldn't have had to."

"I believe in the right to choose. No one should have to have a child, that they don't want."

"If this is too much..."

She exhales, "You need to hear this."

"Ok," he nods.

"Even if I didn't want this child, I couldn't have an abortion. Not at eighteen weeks. I knew that I would never be able to forgive myself. So, I decided that I would have it, and give it to someone, who would love it."

"Why didn't you tell me, that you were pregnant? You were in the line of fire..."

She cuts him off, "I had convinced Rollins, that I wasn't going through with it. I didn't tell anyone else."

"You should have told me."

"I know that. At thirty four weeks, I went into premature labor. I had pretty much resolved myself to the fact, that I wasn't going to care, what happened."

"What did happen?" he questions.

"I was lying there, thinking that I was going to be damned, that after everything, I didn't get to give birth to a healthy baby. I couldn't control any of the rest of it. I wanted to control that. I wanted to give, somebody, a healthy baby."

"What happened?"

"When I went into the hospital, in the middle of the night, I woke Fin up. I didn't want to drive myself. Of course, then I had to tell him, the truth."

"He didn't tell a soul?"

"No. He's a good cop, and he's a hell of a friend. He's always got my back."

"So did you?"

"Did I what?"

"Give somebody, a healthy baby?"

"They were able to stop the contractions," she confirms.

He furrows his brow, "When did you have the baby? It's not still in there, now, is it?"

"No."

"When did you have it? You didn't miss any work," he points out.

"In the middle of a hurricane, in a blackout, in a town, I don't recall the name of, in a motel bathtub."

"Is that some sort of joke?"

She looks up, and makes eye contact, "No."

"No? We had a hurricane, last night."

"I know."

"You gave birth, last night?"

She nods, in confirmation.

"To a healthy baby?"

"Yes. There was no way to get to a hospital, last night."

"But the baby was ok?"

"We took the baby to get checked out, this morning, at the hospital, near where we were staying. Everything looked fine."

He doesn't say anything.

"You can leave a baby, at any hospital," she points out.

He remains silent.

"I thought that it would be easy," she adds.

"Those sort of moments, never are."

"I thought that I could just walk away, and I wouldn't feel anything."

"Olivia, I have never known you, to feel nothing."

"I honestly thought that I wouldn't feel anything."

"You were wrong?"

"I've been wrong, a lot."

"It's ok to be wrong, sometimes."

"I couldn't..." she trails off, as the tears start to trickle down her cheek.

"It's ok," he reassures her.

"I never understood, my mother. How could she keep me? Why would she keep me? How could she look at me, knowing, all that she did, and not be reminded of what happened, every single day of her life. How could she possibly think that she could love me?"

He stares at her face, in silence, as the tears fall freely.

"And, today, I looked at that baby, and I wondered to myself, how could I not? How could I not love her?"


	46. You're Gonna Be

"I don't know how to be anyone's mother. I don't know how to sort all of these emotions out. And the hormones... it's overwhelming."

"I'm here for you, anything you need. You've got as much time, as you need."

"I know that people aren't going to understand. I am not sure that I even understand it."

"We don't have to."

"What are people going to say?"

"Who cares?"

"I care."

"Nobody has to know."

"Everyone will find out, eventually. It's inevitable."

"What makes you say that?"

"Can you hold on, just a second? I need a tissue."

He nods. She gets up, off the couch. She heads into her bathroom. She grabs a tissue, off her nightstand. She wipes her eyes, and tosses it in the wastepaper basket, next to the nightstand. She unfastens the buckles, on the car seat. She lifts the sleeping baby out. She carefully wraps her up, in the fleece blanket. She takes a moment, of silence, to study her, before she leaves the room. She walks slowly, afraid to drop her. She walks past the kitchen, into the living room. She stops, at the couch. Cragen looks up. He doesn't say anything, as she takes a seat, next to him, with the baby in her arms. He smiles at her.

"Do you want to hold her?"

"You changed your mind?" he questions.

She nods, "I just couldn't leave her."

"Let me see her."

She slips the baby, into his arms. He stares at her tiny face. She reminds him, so much, of Olivia. She looks like an angel, as she sleeps.

"She's perfect," he smiles, "Does she have a name?"

"Audrey," Olivia answers.

"You let Fin name her?"

"How did you know?"

He shifts his glance, from the baby in his arms, to his detective.

"I know a lot of things, about my team, that I don't share."

"How did you know?" she repeats the question.

"His grandmother died a few years ago, she was ninety eight. He took a couple of days off."

"I thought that he may have made her up."

"No, she was real."

"Good to know."

He looks at the sleeping baby, in his arms. "Hi, Audrey, it's nice to meet you."

The little girl's eyes flutter open. "Are you going to wake up, and talk to me?" he questions.

Olivia looks at her watch, "She's probably getting hungry."

"Then, that's my cue," he returns the baby to her arms, "I'll leave the two of you alone," he rises, from his seat.

"Ok."

"Do you need anything?"

"A few days off work."

"More than a few days, I think."

"I don't need anything."

"You just had a baby, you need everything."

"Anything, will be fine."

"I'll find something," he tells her.

* * *

When Fin returns, Olivia is in her pajamas. She is passed out, on top of her covers, with the TV on. Audrey lies asleep, on her chest. He is quiet, so he doesn't wake them, but they're sound asleep. It takes him a long time to drag everything in. He carries everything into Olivia's second bedroom. He empties his bags. He uses an empty bag, to put tags in. He tosses all of the laundry in a laundry basket. He heads into the bathroom, where the washer, and dryer are tucked away. He tosses the laundry in the washer, with baby detergent, and turns it on. He returns to the second bedroom. It's nearly two hours, after his return, that he hears crying. It stops, before he can stop what he's doing.

She wakes up, and flips on the lamp. She looks at the baby, on her chest.

"Shh!" she puts the pacifier in her mouth. She looks over, to her right, and sees a basinet next to the bed.

Fin stays in the other room, working on putting a crib together. When Olivia is finished feeding the baby, she gets off the bed. Audrey is sound asleep, again. She lays her in the basinet, and leaves the room.

"Fin?" she calls out.

"In here," he responds.

She walks into the bedroom, and finds him putting a fitted sheet on the mattress. She looks at the crib.

"So are you going to sleep, for the rest of the day?" he inquires.

"What do you mean?"

"You do realize that it is only four o'clock in the afternoon, and you're in your pajamas."

"I am exhausted."

"Are you hungry?"

"I'm starving."

"I hope that you're in the mood for pizza, cause it should be here, any minute. I might let you have some."

"Might?"

He points to the laundry basket on top of the changing table.

"I suppose I'll let you have some, if you fold the laundry."

"I don't know."

"I had to rearrange in here, some. I hope that you don't mind."

"Luckily there wasn't much in here, but a twin bed, and a dresser."

"I pushed the bed against that wall over there, so there would be room for the crib."

She grabs the basket full of laundry. She makes her way over to the bed, and takes a seat. She dumps the contents of the basket onto the bed. She begins folding.

"Do you think me pounding a nail into the wall would wake her up?"

"How should I know?"

"Are you going to be mad at me, if I wake her up?"

"If you wake her up, she's your responsibility."

"Fair enough," he begins to bang the brad into the wall, with the hammer.

"What are you putting up, anyway?"

"You just fold the laundry, and don't worry about it."

He is putting the last letter up, as she finishes folding laundry. She grabs a pile of blankets, and heads over to the dresser. She opens the top drawer, and finds that it is already full of clothes. She opens the next drawer, and finds more clothes. She opens the third drawer, out of four. It's empty. She places the neatly folded blankets inside. She returns to the bed, and grabs the towels. She places them in the drawer, next to the blankets.

"I didn't get everything. I got enough to last a couple weeks though, I think."

Olivia stares at the wall, directly in front of her. A crib, with pink bedding sits against the wall. Letters hang, above the crib, spelling out her daughter's name.


	47. Hope In Humanity

Someone knocks on the door. Fin leaves the room.

"It's probably the pizza, I'll get it."

"Ok," Olivia nods, leaving the room, as well. She goes into her bedroom. She stops in front of the basinet. She looks inside, and finds Audrey staring up at her, with big eyes. She smiles.

"What are you doing? Huh? Did all of that hammering wake you up?" she scoops the baby out of the basinet.

Before she can make it to the doorway, Fin is calling for her.

"Olivia?"

"Is the pizza here?"

"It's not pizza. It's Alex."

"It's ok, I called her."

"Ok," he hollers back. He pulls the door open. Alexandra steps into the apartment. She looks at Fin.

"What took you so long?"

"I didn't know that you were coming."

"What are you doing here?"

"We were getting ready to have pizza," he admits.

"You don't live here," Alex points out.

"I was just hanging out," he fibs.

"Olivia called me, and told me to come over, after work."

"I'll go get her. Have a seat," he points to the couch.

He finds Olivia in her room. He enters the room, and she hands him a wet diaper. She wraps the baby up, in her blanket.

"Thank you. This is just what I always wanted. Alex is waiting for you, in the living room."

"Ok," she scoops the little girl off the bed. She carries her out of the room.

Olivia moves slowly, as she approaches the living room. Alexandra stares at her, from the couch, in silence. Olivia takes a seat, with the baby, in her arms.

"I..." Olivia begins.

"You don't have to say anything," Alex tells her, "I am pretty good at math."

"I know."

"Are you sure about this?"

She shrugs, "I don't know if this is the right thing. I don't know if I can do this. I just know, I want her."

"Can I hold her?"

Olivia nods, slipping the baby, into Alex's arms. Alex stares at the little girl. She's got big dark blue eyes, and thick dark hair. She has chubby cheeks, and long fingers.

"Her name is Audrey."

Alexandra smiles at the baby, "Hi, Audrey. You're awfully cute." She looks up, at Olivia, "Do you need anything?"

Olivia shrugs, "I don't know."

Fin chimes in, "Since she was unprepared, there are a lot of things that she could use."

Alex nods, she makes eye contact, with Olivia, "That's why you didn't tell me?"

"I wasn't planning on keeping her," she says with a pang of guilt, in her voice, on the verge of tears.

Alex looks at the baby, in Olivia's arms, and then she looks at Olivia. Without a word, Fin leaves the room.

"It doesn't matter, now," Alex reminds her.

"I don't know how to do this."

"That's ok. I don't think that anyone does. It's just trial, and error."

"I don't want to screw this up," her brow furrows, and chin quivers.

"You won't."

"You can't promise that," Olivia's glance falls, to the baby in her arms.

"Olivia," Alex touches her hand, "Look at me."

Olivia exhales, and tries to blink away tears. She looks up at Alex.

"I can't promise you anything, no one can."

"I know that."

"I am not finished. I cannot imagine how difficult this is, and will be for you. I do know, that no matter what happens, you have a lot of people pulling for you. If it ever becomes too much, if you feel like you can't do it, and you're ready to break, all you have to do, is say so. We're here for you. We have been colleagues, for years. I have been through more, with you, than nearly anyone else I know. You're family. We're all family, as dysfunctional as we are."

"I know."

"We're never going to let anything happen to her."

"You can't protect her from everything."

"And neither can you. You have to remember that. I know that you're going to want to keep her in a safe little bubble, but you won't be doing her any favors."

"She's so sweet, and innocent..."

"We were all that way, once."

"I don't want her to be like me. I don't want her to be jaded. I don't want her to question if there is good in people."

"How can you even question that?"

"Are you in the same world that I am?"

Alex nods, "There are a lot of people in this world, who are evil. There are a lot of people who set out, to cause harm. I have seen a lot of bad things. Sometimes I wonder if the good outweighs the bad. I can't even be sure if it does, or not. But I know that good still exists.

"How?"

"Because I am sitting here, looking at you."

"What?!"

"I see it in you."

Olivia doesn't respond. Fin intercepts the pizza man, and the door. He heads to the kitchen, without a word.

Alex looks at the sweet little girl, in Olivia's arms. Then she looks at her friend, and colleague.

"Maybe, it's time that you start seeing it, too."

Fin hollers from the kitchen.

"Alex, do you want some?"

"Thanks, but I should be going."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," she nods. "I'll see you later," she leaves the apartment.


	48. A Moment Like This

It's four a.m.. She rolls over, in her sleep. She hears something, and instantly begins to wake up. The room is dark, but she feels as if she's not alone. A sense of panic begins to set in. She turns the lamp on. She finds a familiar face, standing near the bed. He hovers, over the basinet.

"What are you doing?" she wonders.

"I am just checking on the two of you," he admits.

"We were sleeping. I was sleeping."

"I'm sorry."

"I just fell asleep, ten minutes ago. She just got done eating. I changed her, and put her back to bed."

"Why don't you let me take her?"

"Take her, where?"

"To her room," he suggests.

"She's fine," she argues.

"You have been up, and down, all night. Let me take her, for a couple of hours."

"What good is that going to do? You will just have to bring her back to me."

"I can handle it."

"And, when she wakes up, because she's hungry, then what are you going to do?"

"Go make a bottle."

"Go make a bottle? There isn't any formula."

"I bought some formula, and I sterilized the bottles."

"No."

"Olivia, you look exhausted. You don't have to do it all."

"Yes I do," she argues.

He steps away, from the basinet. He takes a seat, on the edge of the bed, next to her.

"Why?"

"Because I have to."

"Olivia, you don't have to."

"Yes," she argues, "I do."

"Why?"

"I want to do everything right."

"You're exhausted. She's going to be just as happy, if she gets a bottle once, in the middle of the night."

"No. Fin, you don't understand."

"Then explain it to me. Stop shutting me out. I am not going to judge you."

"I am her mother. I want to do everything right. I am the only one who is responsible for her. It is my job to take care of her. I just want to be a good mother," she admits, with the tears trailing down her face.

"You already are."

"You don't understand," she shakes her head, as the tears stream down her cheeks.

"Make me understand."

"It's not as if there is just some switch. It's not like I look at her, and the switch just flipped. It is still hard. It still hurts. No matter how much I love her, or how much I know she's done nothing wrong, it is still hard. It's hard for me to look at her, and wonder who she's going to be."

"Then why are you doing this?"

"Because I am selfish," she answers, simply.

He shakes his head, "No, you're not."

"I want her. Someone could probably do a better job at raising her. Someone who isn't a workaholic."

"No," he disagrees.

"I don't want to screw this up. I want to know that I have done everything in my power, to give her as normal of a life, as I possibly can."

"I get that. What I don't get is how one bottle, in the middle of the night, is going to affect that."

"I just want to bond with her."

"You're not getting any sleep. Being sleep deprived makes you moody. It makes you..."

"Fin, I am used to being sleep deprived."

"Not with a screaming baby, you're not."

"I don't want to give her formula."

"Can we make a compromise?"

"What do you suggest."

"Why don't you pump?"

"I don't know about that..."

"You need more than an hour and a half of sleep, at a time. I am just asking you, to let me take her, for a few hours, in the night, so you can have some sleep."

"I'll think about it."

"That is all that I ask."

"Can I go back to sleep, now?"

"I don't think that we're done talking," he argues.

"What more do you want me to say? You already made me cry."

"That is easy these days."

"It's not fair. I can't control it."

"What are you feeling?"

"Tired."

"Olivia," he growls.

"Overwhelmed. I feel overwhelmed."

"What else?"

"I don't know? Mostly tired."

"That's it?"

"Confused."

"Confused?"

"I don't understand, how you can look at someone, for the first time, and be so in love with them."

"Welcome to parenthood."

"Can I go back to sleep, now?"

"Yes, I'll be in the other room," he gets up, to leave.

"Fin?"

"Yeah?" he stops a couple of feet from her bed.

"Why are you doing this?"

"Doing what?"

"You don't have to stay here. No on is asking you to. You have on obligation, here."

"You're my friend. As much as you hate to admit it, you could use my help, at least for a couple more days."

"How did you get so good at this?"

"I had a lot of practice. When Ken was born, I worked nights. I stayed home, during the day, and I took care of him. I was exhausted, all of the time, but I loved every minute of it."

"I just never pictured you changing a diaper."

"Neither did I. Having kids melts your heart, no matter how cold, and stone-like it is."


	49. New Routines

Hours later she wakes up, for what seems like the fifteenth time, in far fewer hours. She rolls over, onto her side, towards the door. She looks at the alarm clock, that sits on her nightstand. She groans, when it tells her the time, _7:48._ She pulls back the covers, and sits up. She slides out of bed, and tosses the covers back over. She stretches, and makes her way over to the basinet, that is three feet from her bed. She peeks inside, and finds that it's empty.

She tiptoes down the hallway, into the second bedroom. The door is partially closed. She pushes it open. It's mostly dark. She goes over to the window, and pulls open the curtain, to let some light in. She quietly moves towards the bed. She stops, a couple of feet away. She backs away, in silence. She leaves the room, for a moment, and returns with the camera. She turns the flash off, and snaps a picture. She places the camera on the top of the dresser, that sits in front of the window.

She once again, heads towards the bed. She stands there, in silence. She watches, as Fin's chest rises, and falls in his sleep. The baby is curled up, on his chest. Her ear is pressed against his chest. There is a puddle of drool, on his t-shirt. His hands are wrapped around her, on the outside of her blanket.

She leaves the room. She goes into her bedroom. From there she heads to the closet. From the closet, she makes a beeline for the shower. Once she gets out of the shower, she dries her hair. She dresses in a t-shirt, and a pair of sweatpants. She looks at herself in the mirror.

Her hair is only half-dry. She doesn't wear any make-up. She looks pale, and tired. There are dark circles, under her eyes. She sighs in defeat. She brushes her hair into a pony tail, and moves on, from the bathroom mirror.

A few moments later she finds herself in the kitchen. She pours herself a bowl of cereal, and grabs a banana. She doesn't take a seat at the table. She just leans against the counter, as she eats. She just listens, to the silence of the apartment, in anticipation. She tosses her banana peel, in the garbage, and puts the bowl in the sink. She finds herself conflicted. Wait for the baby to cry? Or go in, and wake her up?

She tiptoes back down the hallway. She pushes the door open, again. She stands in the doorway. She looks in, expecting to find that Fin is still asleep. She finds him standing in front of the changing table. She stands in the doorway, in silence, just watching him.

He stares at the baby, on the changing table. She just looks up at him. He fastens the snaps, on the flowered onesie. He slips the tiny pair of lavender pants on her. He puts a pair of socks on her. He smiles at her.

"What do you think, Audrey? A hat, or a headband?" he holds both of them up, for her to see. She doesn't answer him. He continues. "Yellow ducky hat? I don't think it matches. Why don't we go with the pink headband? I know that I am probably not the best at this. That is why we got matching outfits, so I don't have to think. I can just get you dressed. Between you, and me... I am not very good, at picking out girly things. We should really leave that up, to someone else. Don't you think?" he slips the head band on her. He scoops her up, off the changing table. "So, what do you think? Should we go wake mom up, or should we let her sleep?"

"I'm awake," Olivia reveals her location.

Fin turns around, and finds Olivia standing in the doorway. "How long have you been standing there?" he wonders.

"A little while," she admits.

"Oh," he carries the baby over to her. "Here she is."

She slips the infant out of his arms. "Hi, little girl," she says, softly.

Audrey looks up at her.

"Liv?"

"Yeah?"

"I think we should go to the store."

"For what?"

"I am not very good at this. You should be picking her stuff out. You know more about it, than I do."

"I don't know anything about babies," she admits.

"Ok, but you're a girl."

"And?"

"You have a daughter," he points out.

"I don't want to leave the house, with her."

"You're going to have to, eventually."

"Not at thirty hours old," she argues.

"Why don't you go, on your own?"

"You want me to leave her?"

"Leave her? I will watch her."

"I don't need to go anywhere. I don't need anything."

"You don't have anything," he argues, "except for a few outfits, a couple of blankets, and a few towels."

"Not right now."

"When? I'm going back to work, tomorrow."

She turns to him, with a panic-stricken look on her face.

"You can't do that," she argues.

"You'll be fine."

"I can't do this. I can't do this, on my own."

"Yes you can, and you have to, at some point."

"I can watch her, but who is going to watch me?"

"Calm down, you'll do fine."

"I'm not ready," she insists.

"What do you suggest? Are you going to come to work with me, and bring her along?"

"Of course not."

"Olivia, what do you want me to tell everyone? They are going to know something is up, when you're not at work," he points out.

"You don't have to tell them, anything."

"They're going to ask me questions."

"As far as they know we're at another precinct, working a case."

"Olivia, we were supposed to be gone for a few days. What do you think that they're going to say, when I come back, and you don't?"

"I don't know," she shrugs.

"You need to figure it out."

"Why?"

"You just had a baby."

"I know that."

"Who, you chose to keep. You're someone's mother now. You're probably going to be off work for the next six weeks. That is a lot of time. You're going to have to figure out how you feel about this. You're going to need help, and not from me. You need professional help. You're going to have to tell our colleagues. And, you're going to have to find someone, that you trust, to watch her, while you're at work."

"I'm not ready for this."

"Stop telling yourself that," he walks through the door, past her.

"Where are you going?" she calls after him.

"I am going to go home, and take a shower, and get some clean clothes."


	50. Stop Crying

Less than five minutes after he leaves someone is knocking on the door. With the baby, wrapped in a blanket, in her arms, she heads to the door. She looks out the peephole, expecting to see Fin. Instead she sees a delivery man outside. She unlocks the door, and pulls it open. He looks at his clipboard.

"I have a delivery for Olivia Benson."

"I didn't order anything," she admits.

He looks at the baby, in her arms, "Maybe it's a gift, for the baby. I need a signature."

She scribbles her name on the line. He pushes the boxes inside the doorway.

"Thank you," she closes the door, behind him. She locks it, and goes into the bedroom. She places Audrey inside the basinet, and wheels her back into the living room. She grabs a pair of scissors out of a drawer, in the kitchen. She slices open the smaller box, first. She pulls out the tissue paper. She finds a note. It reads, _Congratulations. From Alex._ She takes a seat on the couch, with the box. She dumps the contents on the seat, next to her. She finds several outfits, inside. On the bottom, is a thermal blanket, in lavender, the bottom has a flower on it, and the name, _Audrey_, embroidered on it.

She vacates her seat, and moves on, to the bigger box. She slices it open, and pulls out the packing paper. She finds a note inside this one, too. It's from her Captain. Underneath the note she finds two smaller boxes. The first box contains a baby digital baby monitor. She places it on the coffee table. She lifts out the second box. This one has a picture on it. It's a swing. She puts everything into the largest box. She pushes it into the baby's bedroom. She puts the scissors back into the kitchen As she makes her way back to the living room, someone else knocks on the door. Without a second thought she moves towards the door. She looks through the peephole.

"I'll be there, in a minute," she answers. She pushes the baby into the other room. She returns to the door. She unlocks it, once again. She pulls it open.

"What are you doing here?" she wonders.

"I came to check on you," Amanda reveals.

"Why?"

"Because they closed the case in Bedford, yet you and Fin didn't show up for work, this morning."

"I'm fine."

"So, why aren't you at work?"

Olivia briefly glances at her watch.

"I..." she struggles to come up with a reason.

Amanda enters the apartment. She closes the door, behind her.

"What is going on? Why are you acting so weird?"

"I'm not."

"Where is Tutuola?"

"I assume that he is at his apartment."

"Olivia, are you going to tell me what's going on, or not?"

"You should go," Olivia tells her, "I am perfectly fine."

"I am not going anywhere, until you tell me what's going on."

"Please," Olivia begs, "just go."

Amanda doesn't have a chance to argue. The crying, from the other room, interrupts their conversation. Olivia leaves the room, without a word. She slips into her bedroom. She grabs a pacifier, and gives it to Audrey.

"I know you're hungry, but it will have to wait," she whispers.

The baby spits the pacifier out. Her face is red, and the vein in her forehead pulsates. She continues to try. Olivia lifts her out of the basinet, and attempts to soothe her. She doesn't stop crying. Olivia returns to the living room, knowing that Rollins is waiting.

"What is going on, here?" Amanda inquires, as Olivia returns to the living room.

"Have a seat," Olivia tells her, pointing to the couch.

Amanda takes a seat on the couch. She watches Olivia, as she joins her. Amanda stares at the crying baby, in her arms.

"Where did you get a baby?" she furrows her brow, clearly thinking something.

"Where?"

"Why am I even asking? Your due date, was what, about a week ago?"

"Something like that," Olivia admits.

"You lied to me."

"What choice did I have?"

"Why do you keep pushing me away. How am I supposed to have your back, when you shut me out? Huh?"

"You don't need to know everything about me."

"I sure as hell would have liked to have known that you were still pregnant. Olivia, what were you thinking? You walked into a hostage situation, pregnant. You could have gotten everyone killed. What would make you think that was ok?"

"I wasn't thinking."

"Obviously. I don't get it. Why are you doing this? Why would you lie to me?"

"You thought that I should have an abortion."

"I couldn't understand why you would willingly put yourself through hell, again."

"There are a lot of things you don't understand."

"Why did you lead me to believe that you had an abortion?"

"So you would stop asking questions, that I couldn't answer."

"I wouldn't have..."

"Yes you would have. You wouldn't have understood this."

"I don't even know what this is. Did you plan to keep the baby, all along?"

She shakes her head, "No. That wasn't my plan. It was never my plan. I didn't plan any of this. I never would have planned to wind up pregnant, after being raped. I never would have planned being blindsided, with the news, in my second trimester."

"What was the plan?"

"I just planned on giving birth. For me, it was too late to do anything else. I planned on having the baby, and giving it up, for adoption."

"She's right there," Amanda points out.

"I know."

"Did you know?"

"Know what?"

"That it was a girl?"

"No. I didn't know. I didn't know, a lot of things. I thought that it would be better, if I gave her to someone else. But, I couldn't. I didn't know that I would love her, I didn't know that I could."

"Do you have any idea how hard this is going to be?"

"Yes, I know."

"Can you please make her stop crying?"

Olivia nods.


	51. What About Now?

Amanda doesn't say anything else. She just waits, for Olivia to continue their conversation.

"I am sorry, that I didn't tell you."

"You don't trust me?"

"I didn't want anyone to know. It was my burden. It was something I had to deal with, on my own."

"You put your life in danger, and hers too."

"I know how stupid that was."

"You could have told me."

"I was afraid that you would tell someone."

"I wouldn't have told anyone. You're supposed to be my partner."

"I haven't been a very good partner, and I'm sorry for that."

"I am never going to be your old partner. I am never going to be like Stabler. I know that you were partners with him, for twelve years. I understand how much the two of you went through. All I am asking, is that you give me a chance."

"I know that. I have been so caught up, in everything in my own life, that I haven't been able to stay focused on work. I haven't been giving a hundred percent. I haven't given you a chance, and I'm sorry, for that."

"I'm sorry that you didn't think you could trust me."

"I couldn't even trust myself, how was I supposed to trust anyone else?"

"Are you seeing someone?"

Olivia shakes her head.

"Are you going to?" Amanda wonders.

"I don't have a choice. I have to, for her sake, and mine."

"How are you going to do this?"

She shakes her head, "I don't know. I haven't figured it out, yet. I just know that I love her."

"You sound surprised."

"You don't," Olivia realizes.

"Why do you think that I didn't want you to have the baby?" Amanda questions.

"Because you thought it was wrong."

Amanda shakes her head, "I knew you would love it. I knew that no matter how hard you tried to detach yourself from the situation, from the baby, you wouldn't be able to. I knew if you had it, you would only have to take one look at it, to love it. I always knew that you would love it. That is why didn't think you should go through with it. I didn't want you to have to go through the pain of giving a child, that you loved, up for adoption. I thought that would break you. You would always wonder. You would always doubt that you made the right choice. Eventually it would be too much to handle. I know that we don't see eye to eye, but I didn't want to lose my partner."

Olivia makes eye contact, with her, "Oh."

"I should have supported you."

"I would have reacted the same way, if the situation was reversed."

"You're not your mother," Amanda reminds her.

"How do I know that? How do I know that she didn't feel the same way? I can't ask her. I mean, did she just wake up, one day, and look at me, and decide that it was too much? After I was already here, did she decide that drinking every day, of her life, would be better, than having to look at me? Maybe love isn't enough. Maybe being looking at me, every single day, was too much. How could she look at me, and not be reminded?" Olivia begins to cry.

"You're afraid that will happen to you?"

"I am already genetically predisposed to alcoholism. Both of my parents were alcoholics."

"You are stronger than that."

"What if one day I take a drink, and I can never stop?"

"Don't take one," Amanda answers, "You don't have to drink, just like I don't have to gamble. It's not as if I can make a little bet, and be fine. It is just the beginning. I can't even play monopoly."

"What if I make the same mistakes? What if I have made a mistake, in keeping her? What if her childhood turns out, just like mine did?"

"Olivia, that is not going to happen."

"How can you be so sure?"

"You're not your mother."

"You keep saying that."

"Did you ever think that the reason your mother resented you, wasn't because of who your father was?"

"Of course it was," Olivia argues.

"But, what if it wasn't?"

"What do you mean?"

"She was in college. Her life was just starting. She had everything in front of her. Then, you came along. She wasn't ready to be a parent. She was young, and immature. She felt as if you had taken something from her. The picture that she had in her head, of how her life was going to go, it changed, the second you were in it."

"I never really thought of it, that way."

"You're in a different place, in your life. You have wanted this, for a long time. This was your picture, wasn't it?"

"I always wanted to have a child."

"And, I am sure that this isn't the way you imagined it."

"No."

"But, you always wanted it. You always wanted her, didn't you?" Amanda probes.

"Yes."

"You always felt like someone was missing?"

"For a long time, I thought that it was my father."

"And, when you found him?"

"He was dead," Olivia points out.

"But was the void filled?"

"No, it was never filled. Even though I had a brother. The feeling never went away."

"I know."

"Why do you gamble?"

"Everyone has holes. One day, I'll share mine, with you."

"Ok," Olivia nods.

"But right now, it's about you. You, and that sweet little girl."

Olivia looks at the foot, sticking out from underneath the blanket. Amanda looks at her barefoot.

"Who lost her sock, somewhere," Olivia adds.

"What about now? Do you feel like someone is missing?"


	52. Don't Go

"It is hard to explain. I don't know how to understand it," Olivia admits.

"That's ok. I should get back to the precinct."

"I would appreciate..."

"I won't tell anyone, but you have to, at some point."

"I know."

"I'll see you, later."

Olivia watches her leave. She doesn't get up, after her, and lock the door. Instead, she takes in the moment of peace.

When Fin returns, he finds her sitting on the couch. She sits there, in silence, as he enters the apartment. She doesn't look up, to greet him. She sits there, with her legs stretched out. Audrey lays in her lap. Olivia stares at the sleeping baby.

"Whatcha doin?" he questions.

"Just watching her, sleep."

"Liv..."

She cuts him off, "You think that I'm crazy."

"Nope."

"I am sitting here, staring at her, while she sleeps."

"Imma let you in on a little secret. Every new parent does that."

"She's so perfect."

"I agree."

"How did this happen?"

"What do you mean?"

"The world is so ugly, and things have been..." she trails off.

"Difficult, lately," he supplies.

"How did I end up with this perfect little girl?" she wonders.

"She's your prize."

"Rollins was here."

"Did you call her?"

"She just showed up."

"What did she say?"

"A lot of things, that I didn't want to hear."

"I'm sorry," he apologizes.

"I needed to hear them."

"It's funny how that happens sometimes, huh?"

She looks up, at him, "Can I ask you something?"

"You know that you can ask me anything."

"Are you going to stay, tonight?"

"Do you want me to?"

"I don't know," she admits.

"Just let me know. I'll stay if you want. If you don't, I'll go."

"And I'll find you standing over my bed, at two o'clock in the morning, checking on me."

"I never said I wouldn't."

"How long are you going to stay?"

"Why? Are you getting sick of me? I can leave, if you want."

"No. I'm not getting sick of you."

"Where is this coming from?"

"Lately, we spend a lot of time together," she points out.

"I just thought that you didn't want to be alone."

"I don't."

He looks at the baby, in her arms, "But I guess that you're not, anymore."

"Fin, I don't want you to go anywhere."

"I have to leave at some point, don't I?"

"Why?"

"I don't live here."

"Why do you have to go anywhere?" she questions.

"What are people going to say, when they realized that I stay here, every night?"

"Since when do you care what people think?"

"I don't, but you do. All I'm saying, is that they might get the wrong impression."

"The wrong impression?"

"You know."

"I know, what you're saying. I just don't care."

"You don't care what I'm saying?"

"I don't care what they think."

"What happened to him?"

"Who?" Olivia furrows her brow.

"You were seeing someone, before all of this happened."

"Yes," she confirms.

"You ended it, by shutting him out?"

"No," she shakes her head.

"I don't buy it."

"He didn't want to wait."

"Wait, for what?"

"For me to fix, whatever was broken. I thought that he was understanding. I thought that he was a decent guy. I mean, he was, but everyone has their limits."

"It sounds to me, like he was a dud."

"Our schedules didn't allow us much time to be together, anyway. I hadn't seen him, in almost two weeks, before it happened."

"Because of your schedules?" he says, suspiciously.

"Nobody wants something that is broken. I had baggage, before all of this happened. He thought he could handle it, but nobody wants to put up with my crap."

"That isn't true."

"Why do you put up with me?"

"I'm stuck with you. I am never ever going to get transferred to a different unit, and you won't ever leave, so I have to put up with you."

"You should stay."

"I know. I should stay at SVU, I'm not going to leave you alone, with John, and the rookies."

"That isn't what I meant."

He stops her. "Liv, I don't think now is the right time for this conversation."

"There is never going to be a right time."

"I don't want you to say something you don't mean. Can we have this discussion, later?"

"Ok."

"Good."

"But, are you really going back to work, tomorrow?"

"Yes."

"You're going to leave me alone, with a brand new baby?"

"I'll work something out," he promises.


	53. Help

He rolls towards the phone. He pulls it to his ear. After a brief conversation he stumbles out of the room. He leaves a note, on her bedside table. He heads to his apartment, to change his clothes, and then goes to his crime scene.

She wakes up, to the sound of crying, after a few hours of sound sleep. She sits up, and looks around the room. She quickly realizes that the crying isn't coming from the basinet, three feet from her. It sounds muffled, as if it's in another room. She stares at the note, reminding her that he isn't here.

She grabs her weapon, and climbs out of bed. She makes her way, into the other room. She lowers her weapon, when she reaches the doorway. She backs away, returning her weapon to it's designated location, in her room. She quickly makes her way back to Audrey's bedroom.

"Can I help you?" Olivia inquires.

The person standing in front of the changing table completes the task at hand, and lifts the baby off the changing table.

"I've got it."

"Casey, what are you doing here?"

"Fin called me, this morning."

"Why?"

"He knew I was off."

"Why?"

"I had a three day conference to attend. I took an extra day off, to catch up on some things."

"How did you get in here?"

"He gave me his spare key."

"Why are you here?"

"He asked for a favor."

"He wants you to babysit me?"

"He just asked if I would stop in, and check on you."

"That is all he said?"

"He said that you would probably be sleeping. He wanted me to check on you, and make sure that everything was ok. When I got here, you were sound asleep. She was not. She was lying in her basinet, wide awake."

"Was she crying?"

"No."

"But you picked her up?"

"I couldn't help myself, I'm sorry. Then after I picked her up, she started crying. I figured that she might need a diaper change."

"Oh."

"So are we going to talk about this?"

Olivia shrugs, leaving the room. Casey follows her into the living room. Olivia takes a seat on the couch. Casey sits down, on the cushion next to her. Casey holds the baby in her arms.

"I like the name Audrey. She looks like an Audrey," Casey begins.

"I didn't choose it, Fin did."

"Oh?"

"I never planned on keeping her. It wasn't as if I had a name picked out for her. I didn't even know she was a girl. I didn't have anything."

"That's ok."

"No, it's not. None of it is ok. I found out that I was pregnant, months after I was raped. I had no idea. I was completely blind-sided."

"You didn't take the morning after pill?"

"I did. It didn't work, obviously."

"So why is she here with you?"

"I was eighteen weeks along, by the time that I found out."

"You didn't know?"

"I guess that I missed the signs."

"Were you sick?"

"I was never sick. I never felt sick."

"I wish that you had told me."

"I was afraid. I was afraid to tell anyone. I didn't know how people would react. Honestly, I didn't know how to explain it. I couldn't understand it, so how could I explain it? I got pregnant, and I was carrying a child who was the product of rape. I was carrying a child, who I chose not to abort, even though I knew the circumstances of the conception. I didn't know how to tell people I was pregnant, with a baby I didn't want, a baby that I didn't plan on keeping. I couldn't even make myself understand it. How could I make anyone else understand?"

"You changed your mind?"

"I thought I couldn't do it. I didn't think that I would feel any connection. I didn't think that I could possibly love her. I do."

"I wouldn't have judged you."

"After what we see women go through, every day, you wouldn't have judged me?"

"I have never been in your situation, how could I judge you?"

"This is scarier, than being raped. I am afraid that I will do something wrong. I am afraid that one day I'll look at her, and I'll make a decision on how she got here, instead of what's best for her."

"You are going to be incredible."

"You don't know that. What if I am the worst mother, in the history of the world?"

"You won't be."

"Nobody knows that. What if I go off the deep end? What if I can't keep it together?"

"Olivia, I can't answer those questions."

"I know."

"You're feeling anxious, I can understand that. Having a new baby, in itself would cause plenty of anxiety. Adding all the other factors of this situation, just intensifies things. I know you hate therapists, but maybe you should..."

"I know that I need to talk to someone."

"Sooner, rather than later."

Olivia looks up at her. She doesn't say anything. She just looks at the baby, in Casey's arms.

"I'll take you," Casey adds.

"I am sure that you have other things to do."

"None that are more important."

"Are you sure?"

"We can go shopping, afterwards, if you want."

"There are a lot of germs," Olivia begins.

"You're going to be one of those mothers?"

"Those mothers?"

"Who puts their kid in a bubble?"

"She's a newborn," Olivia argues.

"I'll cover her up, and make sure no one breathes on her," Casey promises.


	54. With A Little Help From My Friends

Olivia enters the office, without hesitation. She feels a sense of relief, the instant that she walks into the office. Casey waits in the waiting room. She is surprised, when Olivia takes the carseat, with the sleeping baby, with her. She doesn't say anything.

He's already in the room, when she enters. She closes the door, behind herself. She takes a seat on the couch, and places the car seat, on the couch, next to her. He looks at her, waiting for her to begin. She stares at him, unsure of what to say.

"Olivia, where would you like to start?" he questions.

She points to the baby, in the car seat, "Here, I guess."

He rises from his seat. She unfastens the harness on the car seat. He smiles at the sleeping baby, inside. He looks to his colleague, "May I?"

She nods, "Go ahead."

He carefully lifts the baby out of the car seat. Olivia places it on the floor. George takes a seat, next to her, with the baby in his arms.

"She looks a lot like you. What's her name?"

"Audrey."

"Olivia I realize that this must be very difficult for you, and I feel very honored, that I am who you chose to come talk to."

"Everyone wanted me to talk. They kept insisting, that I talk about my feelings, all the time. You're the one, with multiple degrees, and titles, behind your name. You're the therapist, and you didn't push me. Why?"

"In the past I have witnessed what pushing you does. You can only be pushed so far. I wanted to be careful. I know when you're pushed too far, that you snap. I didn't want to be responsible for that. I wanted to be available to you, if you needed to talk."

"Thank you."

"And, it became evident, to me, after a while, that what you were dealing with, was more than rape trauma syndrome."

"What do you mean?"

"Dr. Warner, is not the only one, who went to medical school."

"You knew?" she looks at him, in disbelief.

"I had my suspicions."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"I figured that if you wanted me to know, you would have told me. Some things are too painful to deal with. People have boundaries, and I try to respect them."

"I didn't know, the whole time."

"I know."

She furrows her brow. He can see the question mark, in her expression.

"It was something that I noticed, in your behavior, before I noticed any changes, in your appearance. I kept asking myself what had changed. It didn't seem to be the progression, of what you had just been through. It seemed to me, as if there was something more. After a while, I made the connection."

"I sat through ob appointments, numbly. I would stare at a poster, or a diagram, and try to completely block out, what was going on."

"Were you successful?"

"Most of the time."

"You didn't plan on keeping her, for yourself?"

"No."

"But, did you ever commit to any other family?"

"No."

"You made up excuses, why they weren't good enough?"

"Of course."

"Maybe, you always wanted her."

"I didn't know she was a girl."

"Do you think that you would feel differently, if she had been a boy?"

"I would like to tell you that I wouldn't, but I don't know."

"You still have a lot of doubts."

"I am not prepared to be a mother."

"In what ways?"

"I am not prepared, in any way. I am emotionally unstable, and..."

"What makes you say that?"

"I just don't know what I am going to feel, from one moment, to the next."

"Olivia, that is normal. You are having fluctuations of hormones. All new mothers experience them."

"But, what if it's not just that? What if it never goes away?"

"You're concerned that you'll develop post-partum depression?"

"Yes. I am afraid that I won't develop an attachment to her. I am..."

He cuts her off, "Let's talk about that."

"Which part?"

"Fear. What are you the most afraid of? Tell me your worst case scenario."

"I am afraid that I will do everything wrong. I am afraid that I will be like my mother, or maybe even worse. I just get this picture in my head, of her, as a teenager, standing over my dead body, with my gun," she blinks away tears.

"What makes you go there?"

"What if I can't love her? What if she doesn't feel like I love her?"

"Do you?"

"Yes," the tears start to fall.

"You're afraid of not being in control."

"I haven't been in control, of a long time."

"For ten months."

"And, I don't know how to get it back."

"Take it," he tells her.

She looks at him, puzzled. "That's it?"

He nods, "Just take it."

"It doesn't seem that simple."

"Take it back."

"How do I do that?"

"You already did. The problem is, you don't give yourself, the small victories. You don't acknowledge the big ones, either. You wait, until you can see a change. When you're the one changing, you often don't see it. You're too close, it's gradual, it makes it difficult to see."

"What do you mean?"

"How many locks do you have on your door?" he questions.

"Seven," she answers, without thinking.


	55. Opening Up

"Last night, how many did you lock?"

"Two."

"How many times did you check the door?"

"I didn't. I locked it, and went to bed. I was exhausted."

"How many times did you check all of the windows?"

"I didn't. I was busy feeding her."

"Whose decision, was it, to have her?"

"Mine."

"And, to keep her?"

"Mine."

"How did you sleep, last night?"

"I was up every few hours."

"Why?"

"To feed the baby."

"And what were you thinking about, before you fell asleep?"

"You don't want to know," she insists.

"You can tell me."

She shakes her head, "That I need a breast pump."

"Oh."

"More information than you ever wanted to know, huh?"

"What did you dream about?"

"I don't remember."

"It sounds to me, like you have already taken control."

"I don't know how to get my life back to normal."

"Olivia, your life is never going to be the way that it used to be. Changes are going to have to be made. I know that change can be difficult, but I think that it is time to face it. Your life is never going to be the same. You are not the same Olivia Benson, NYPD detective, that you were a few days ago. Now you're Olivia Benson, mom. You have a child. Things have to change. You have a little girl, who is depending on you."

"I don't like change," she admits.

"I know that. I have known you long enough, to have observe your reaction to change. Life is full of changes, and you have to learn to accept that."

"I haven't spoken to him," she admits.

"Since when?"

"Since I interrogated him."

"He was your partner."

"He was my best friend."

"He's not in your life anymore. Does that distress you?"

"Sometimes. I miss him."

"That is normal."

"I think I held on to the idea of him being my partner, for so long, that I failed to welcome a new one. I refused to see the good qualities that a new partner brought to the table."

"You seem more accepting, now."

"I think that I have reached an understanding, with my partner."

"Good."

"I don't know how to do this, though," she admits.

"Do what?"

She looks at the baby that he is holding. She swallows hard, "Any of this."

"What specifically?"

"I am so used to being..." she trails off, trying to put her finger on it.

"Emotionally unavailable? Outwardly stoic?"

"I don't like to deal with my emotions."

"In your line of work, sometimes emotions get in the way."

"Exactly."

"That isn't the case here," he reminds her.

"I don't know how to..." she furrows her brow.

"Let yourself feel, whatever it is, that you're feeling?" he supplies.

"I don't deal with things, at least not in the way that I should. I just ignore things, until I can't, anymore."

"Kind of like what you did, with being pregnant?"

"What do you mean?"

"You ignored the fact that you were going to have to make an emotionally charged decision, at the end of your pregnancy. You tried to ignore the fact, that there was a human being growing inside of you. You didn't want to deal with the emotions, that came along with being pregnant, did you?"

"No."

"You didn't want to deal with the emotional peaks, and troughs that accompanied being pregnant, with your rapists baby."

"No. I tried not to develop any attachment."

"Did it work?"

"You are not a woman."

"No," he smirks, "I am not."

"You have never been pregnant. You have never felt a baby move inside of you."

"You're right, I haven't, but you have."

"The more I tried to ignore it, the more obvious it became. Outwardly, and otherwise. No matter how much I tried to hide it, she just kept growing. It became more difficult, with each day to hide it."

"I can imagine."

"And, the second I put it in the back of my mind, she would move. I would be in the middle of an investigation, or an interrogation, and she would kick me. It was like she wanted to remind me that she was there."

"What did that feel like?"

"It felt like someone kicking me in the rib."

"Not physically, emotionally."

"Overwhelming. I found myself trying to focus all of my attention on my work. I tried to ignore it, but I couldn't it. I wasn't ready to deal with the thought of being pregnant. I wasn't ready to face the facts."

"What facts?"

"Carrying a child, who was conceived, during my rape. A child, who I couldn't imagine wanting."

"But you do."

"But, beyond that, I couldn't even fathom being pregnant. Even though I knew what was happening, and I could see the changes, I still had a hard time grasping it. At my age, I never expected to have a child. I never expected that I would get pregnant. But I did, and it was so surreal."

"Because you have always wanted a child. All of your attempts, to fulfill that dream, had failed. Then, you find out, that at your age, you have managed to conceive a child. Which, under nearly any other circumstances, you would be ecstatic about."

"He took that from me," she realizes.

"What's that?"

"Something I should have been happy about. It should have been one of the most incredible experiences of my life, and he took that from me."

"There are a lot of things that he took from you. You have to keep in mind, there is nothing else he can take from you, now."

She looks at the little girl, fast asleep, in his arms. He breaks eye contact, and looks down at the sleeping baby. He smiles.

"He can't take her from you. He can't take the way that you feel about her, away."


	56. Slip of The Tongue

After meeting with Huang, Olivia, and Casey make a pit stop, at a baby store. They're at the store far longer than expected. Casey helps Olivia carry in all of the bags, and the baby.

"You don't have to stick around. Fin will be off work in a few hours, I'm sure. I can handle it, until then."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. They're is still daylight left. Go do whatever you have to do. I am just going to feed her, and put her down for a nap."

"Ok," Casey nods.

Olivia feeds Audrey, and puts her in her basinet, for a nap. She empties the shopping bags, and pulls the tags off the items she's bought. She tosses the new items into the washing machine. After loading with detergent, and turning it on, she leaves the room. She heads into her bedroom. She stops, in front of the basinet, and peeks inside.

Audrey is passed out, inside. She wrapped in a pink thermal blanket. She lays on her back. One hand rests on her face, while the other is tucked in her blanket. Her dark blue eyes, and closed. Her tiny pink lips are puckered, as she sleeps. A few pieces of unruly, dark hair stick out, from under her cap. Once Olivia is satisfied that she is sound asleep, she moves away.

She heads over to her own bed, for a quick cat nap. She pulls the covers back, and climbs inside. She has just about dozed off, when Audrey begins to stir. With her eyes half closed, she climbs out of bed. She scoops the baby up. She carries her over to the bed, and checks her diaper. It's still dry. She climbs back into bed. She crawls under the covers, part of the way. She places Audrey on her chest, and pats her, until she falls back to sleep. It doesn't take long for Olivia to join her, in dreamland.

* * *

_She walks backstage. She sees several little girls, sitting in a circle, with an instructor. She tiptoes in. After a few moments the girls get up. A three year old, walks towards her, with a big smile on her face. The little girl's thick, dark hair, is pulled back, into a French braid. She runs towards Olivia, in her leotard, tights, and ballet slippers. _

_Olivia smiles at her, as the little girl throws her arms around her. Olivia lifts her off the ground, onto her hip. She plants a kiss, on her temple. _

_"Mommy, what are you doing?"_

_"I came to wish you good luck, before you go on," Olivia reveals. _

_"Where's daddy?"_

_"He should be on his way," Olivia answers._

_"Is he coming?"_

_"Of course."_

_Before Audrey can ask anymore questions, she is squirming, to get away. Olivia sits her down. Audrey runs past her. Olivia turns around, and watches her. She stops, in her father's embrace. He hugs her tightly, and holds out a single rose, for her._

_"For my girl, for her first ballet recital," he tells her._

_She squeezes him, tightly, "Thank you."_

_He smooches her, on the cheek, "Now go warm up, princess. We're gonna go grab seats."_

_"K," she scampers off, with a smile. _

_Olivia looks at Fin, with a smile on her face. He smiles back at her._

_"There aren't very many seats left."_

_"I know."_

_He leads away from the stage. She scans the room, looking for seats. He taps her on the shoulder, and then points. She looks at the first row, right in front of center stage. One of them waves at her. There are two seats, front and center, between half a dozen of their colleagues. _

* * *

She returns to reality, when the time on the washing machine beeps. It brings her to consciousness. She opens her eyes, and looks at the baby, sleeping on her chest. The little girl drools on her. She carefully slides out of the bed. She gently places Audrey in her basinet, and heads into the other room, to put the laundry in the dryer.

They are in the squad car, on their way to execute a search warrant. Fin drives, Much looks over at him.

"What?" Fin questions, not taking his eyes off the road.

"You're being awfully quiet today."

"I got stuck with you," he complains.

"Where is Olivia?"

"At home."

"Sick?"

"She's not sick," he says, before thinking.

"Then why isn't she here? She doesn't want to put up with you, anymore."

"She just had a baby," he reveals, before he can stop himself.

"Come again?" Munch just looks at him, in surprise.

Fin pulls into the first parking spot he finds.

"What did you just say?" Munch questions.

"We're here," he points to the brownstone to their right.

"I am not getting out, until you repeat that."

"I said, she just had a baby," he grits his teeth, as he looks at his former partner.

"And no one told me?"

"It wasn't planned, and it wasn't my news to tell."

"I know that it wasn't planned. No one would plan it, like that."

"Look, I would appreciate if you didn't rat me out."

"Not a chance."

"Munch, come on, man."

"Boy, or girl?"

"Girl."

"Does she have a name?"

"Audrey."

"After your grandmother?"

He shrugs, "She let me name her."

"That was nice. What does that mean, for me?"

He shrugs.

* * *

She's in her room, with the door closed, most of the way, when she hears him come in. She listens closely. She hears not one, but two set of footsteps coming her way. Fin stops, and knocks on the door.

"Don't come in here."

"Are you ok?"

"I am not decent," she replies.

"That's your response, after everything I've seen?"

"Audrey isn't in here."

"Where is she?"

"I gave her to the mailman," Olivia retorts.

"Seriously, where is my girl?"

"Who is out there, with you?"

"I may have accidentally told Munch."

"Whatever, she's in her crib."

"Why?"

"Because I was afraid the noise would wake her up."

"What noise?"

There is a long pause. Olivia finishes what she's doing, and walks out of the room. She holds up a bottle. She scowls at Fin. Munch isn't standing next to him.

"The noise from the breast pump. Where did John go?"

"To see the baby," Fin answers.


	57. Hanging By A Moment

She walks into the room, and finds him standing over the crib. Fin walks in, behind her. She clears her throat, and Munch looks over at her.

"She looks so sweet," he admits.

"You can pick her up, she won't bite," Olivia tells him.

He looks at her, "Are you sure? I don't want to wake her up."

"She'll be hungry soon, anyway."

"Ok," he nods. He reaches into the crib, and scoop out the sleeping baby. He stares at her sweet, angelic face, and chubby cheeks. "Hi, Audrey," he coos. She doesn't open her eyes.

Fin looks at the baby, "Are you gonna wake up, and talk to us?" he questions.

She remains sound asleep. Olivia kisses the baby's forehead. She still doesn't stir.

"Audrey, wake up, so uncle Munch can see your eyes, when he's talking to you," she insists.

Audrey opens her eyes, and searches for the sound of her mother's voice. She looks up at Munch. He looks back at her, and then to Olivia.

"She's not going to start crying, is she?"

"Not unless you pinch her, or something," Olivia answers.

John looks into the baby's big slate colored, eyes. "Hi sweet girl. It's nice to meet you. I'm your uncle Munch. I'll tell you all about things your mother doesn't want me to. I will completely corrupt you, and spoil you rotten," he smiles, "and that is a promise. We have been waiting on you, for a long time. We're talking years, little one."

"She's only a few days old, and she's already a princess," Fin adds.

"She's already got you wrapped around her little finger, huh?" John guesses.

"How could I possibly resist that face? I mean, come on man, could you?"

"Who would want to?" John responds.

"Exactly," Fin agrees.

"I should probably get going, I am in the middle of a case," Munch offers the baby to Olivia. Before she has a chance to take her, Fin scoops her up.

"I'll be back in the morning," Fin promises.

"I know," John admits, leaving the room.

They see him out of the apartment. Fin takes a seat, on the couch, with the baby. Olivia leans against the arm of the couch.

"You can go back to work, if you're in the middle of a case. We'll be ok."

"I don't want to go back to work. I want to be here."

"Are you sure?"

"Munch can handle it."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. How was your day, with Casey?"

"You could have told me that she was coming. I woke up, she had Audrey, in the other room. I thought that I was going to have a heart attack."

"I am sorry to do it that way, but she was the only one available. I know it wasn't my place. I didn't tell her anything, but I knew she would have to know, eventually."

"It's ok."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," she nods.

"You don't seem angry. Why aren't you angry with me?"

"Because it was a good day."

"I see you got a breast pump."

"You know, just because I have a baby, and I'm breastfeeding, doesn't mean that it isn't awkward to talk about."

"Sorry. We can talk about something else."

"I went to see Huang, today."

"Oh?"

"We talked, a lot," she admits.

"Was it helpful?"

She shrugs, "Only time will tell."

"So what did he have to say?"

"About what?"

"Her," he stares at the baby, in his arms.

"The same thing everyone says, that she's cute."

"She's more than cute," Fin points out.

"I know."

"She looks a lot like you. It's kind of scary, actually, how much she looks like you."

"It's better than the alternative," she says, without a second thought.

"I'm sorry."

"I know that you didn't mean it that way."

"Still."

"It doesn't matter. She's mine. It doesn't matter what she looks like. He's dead."

"Liv, are you going to tell her the truth?"

"One day, when she's old enough to understand."

"No one is old enough to understand."

"I don't want to lie to her. We have seen first hand, what happens, when you lie to your child," Olivia explains.

"You end up with a child, who is a liar."

"Exactly. So, did you spend your whole day thinking about diapers?" she wonders.

"I was wondering if the two of you were ok."

"You could have called," she points out.

"I didn't want you to feel like I was checking in on you."

"Fin, it's ok, if you want to check in."

"Are you sure?"

She nods, "You're always going to be in her life, and I'm ok with that."

"I am glad that you decided to keep her. I am not sure if I could have handled it, if you didn't."

"What do you mean?"

"When I saw her for the first time, it was like I was seeing my own child, for the first time. I felt a bond with her, from the first second."

"It was a memorable birth," she agrees.

"That is going to be a fun bedtime story."

"That is not going to be a bedtime story," Olivia argues.

He looks at the baby, in his arms, "She's going to ask you. I can already picture it."

"I will let you tell her all about it."

"You always let me do the dirty work."

"Give me an example."

"Catching the baby that was shooting out of you," he points out.


	58. Tired Of Secrets

"So have you told everyone? I am not very good at keeping secrets."

She frowns, "You are the best person I know, at keeping secrets," she argues.

"Not at this one."

"I haven't told Nick, yet."

"Why don't you just come by the precinct, tomorrow, and show her off to everyone, then I don't have to keep it a secret."

"I'm not going to do that."

"Why not?"

"I don't want to expose her to all of those germs."

"You took her to the baby store. I am sure that there are more germs there."

"Maybe, but she was covered up, in her car seat the entire time. I didn't let anyone look at her, or breathe on her."

"Then have Nick come over here, and meet her."

"Fine."

"You should call him."

"I will."

"Now," he suggests.

"Now? Why now?"

"Because I'm tired of keeping this a secret."

"Fine."

"Wait."

She furrows her brow, "Fin, make up your mind."

"Does Elliot know?"

"How would he know? I haven't spoken to him."

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"That he's such a jerk. You were partners for twelve years, and he doesn't even call. He doesn't go to lunch with you, every now, and then, just to catch up."

"I'll get over it."

"No you won't. I wouldn't."

"Do you still talk to all of your old partners?"

"I see Munch every day."

"Other than him?"

"I talk to them, occasionally, but I didn't spend twelve years with any of them."

"Are you and Munch ever going to open that bar?"

"He wants to. I'm not so sure that I'm keen on the idea."

* * *

Later that night, she heads to bed, early. Nick has come, and gone. Fin, stops, outside her door. It is only partially closed. He debates whether or not he should go in. He sees that the light is still on. He clears his throat.

"You can come in," she informs him.

He pushes the door open. He finds her sitting in bed, with her hair in a messy bun. She sits against the head board, as she reads. Audrey is sound asleep, on her chest.

"What are you reading?"

"I need toilet paper," she tells him.

"Ok? What does that have to do with anything?"

"I went over to your apartment, because we ran out."

"Oh?"

"I found this, sitting on the back of the toilet."

"Found what?" he plays coy.

"A baby name book," she holds it up, for him to see.

"Oh. I forgot all about that."

"Really? There is a page bookmarked with the receipt," she adds.

"Oh?"

"You bought it the day, after I told you."

"Is that a crime?"

"No. I just don't understand."

"A baby should have a name, whether you keep it, or not."

"Why did it matter?"

"Because I knew that you wouldn't pick a name out."

"I looked through the book."

"Were there any that you liked?"

"I am not going to change her name," Olivia admits.

"Why are you giving me flack, then?"

"How did you pick the name?"

"I told you, Audrey was my grandmother's name."

"I know that. I only see two names highlighted. Why?"

"What do you mean, why? Those were the ones that I liked."

"You didn't choose any boy names, why is that?"

He shrugs, "I told you, I just had a feeling it was a girl."

"I didn't even know."

"You didn't want to know," he argues.

"How did you know?"

"Olivia are you accusing me of something here?"

"I don't know," she admits.

"Look, I thought it was going to be a girl. I didn't have any proof to back it up."

"So you didn't use your badge to get information out of a doctor, or a nurse?"

"No. I didn't even know who your doctor was. Olivia I respect your privacy. I respect the hell out of you, in general."

"Ok," she relents.

"And, on that note, I am going to leave you alone."

She puts the book down, next to her. "You don't have to go."

"I feel like I'm interrupting."

She looks down, at Audrey. She is sound asleep, with her ear pressed against Olivia's chest.

"You're not interrupting anything."

"I don't want to keep you from bonding with her."

"You're not. In fact, why don't you take her for a little while? I need to take a shower. My hair is greasy."

"Are you sure?"

"I wanted a shower, an hour ago, but I didn't want to have to disturb her sleep, to get it."

She lifts the baby off her chest. She carefully places her into Fin's arms. He leaves the room, so she can get a shower.


	59. Mommy Guilt

4 weeks have passed, since Audrey's birth. Fin has continued to stay with Olivia. It's nearly eight o'clock, when he gets home, from work. He closes the door, behind him, locking it, too. He walks past the empty playpen, in the living room.

"Liv?" he calls out, knowing she would never take the baby anywhere, this late at night.

She doesn't answer him. He heads for Audrey's room. He steps into the room, and finds her crib empty. The bed he sleeps in is right next to her crib. He leaves the room, and heads towards Olivia's room. He checks in the basinet. He finds it empty.

He goes to the bathroom door. It's closed. He can hear the shower running. He talks, through the door.

"Olivia, are you in there?"

"I'm in the shower," she responds.

"Where is Audrey?"

"She's in here, with me, in her swing."

"Ok."

Before he can walk away, he hears the baby start to cry. He waits for the shower to turn off.

"Fin, I just got in here, can you come get her?"

"Are you sure about that?"

"First of all, you saw everything I had, the night that she was born, so it shouldn't matter. Secondly, they are frosted shower doors, you can't see anything, anyway."

The baby screams, louder, and louder. He grips the door knob. He twists it open. He finds Audrey's swing sitting on a towel, on the bathroom floor, in front of the bathroom counter. He quickly unbuckles her, and lifts her out. He makes a beeline, for the door.

"I just fed her," Olivia tells him, just before he walks out.

He closes the door behind him, and carries the squalling baby into the other room. He takes her into her room, and places her on the changing table. He smiles at her, as she screams.

"I know, princess. I am going to go out on a limb, and guess that you need some fresh britches," he begins to undress her. "You don't have to cry about it."

She stops crying, and looks at him. He smiles at her. She smiles back, as he unfastens her onesie. He looks at the blue strip, on her diaper. He quickly, and skillfully trades it for a clean one. He fastens it back up, and puts her pants back on. He pitches the diaper into the diaper genie, and scoops her up. He places her in her crib, for a moment. He leaves the room, and goes across the hallway, to the bathroom. He washes his hands thoroughly, and then returns to the room. He takes her out of the crib, before she can start crying again.

"Did you have a good day with mommy, sweet girl?"

She lays there, smiling at him.

"Did you miss me?"

She squeals with joy. She rubs her eyes.

"Are you a sleepy girl? Huh?" he looks at his watch, "It's about bedtime, huh?"

He carries her over to the dresser, and grabs clean clothes. He grabs another clean diaper, and sets it out. He carries her to the bathroom, across the hallway. The bathroom is an unusual mix. One half is his, bar soap, aftershave, shaving cream, and the other is baby shampoo, soap, and lotion. He holds her in his arms, as he puts the pink baby tub in the bottom of the tub.

He turns on the water. He fills the tub up. He double checks the temperature. He grabs a clean baby towel. He puts her in his lap, and undresses her. He carefully transfers her into the tub.

On the other side of the apartment, Olivia is getting out of the shower. She skips her old beauty routine. She doesn't even dry her hair. She washes her face, brushes her teeth, and hair, and applies moisturizer. She grabs a bathrobe off the hook, on the back of the door, knowing that before she can go to sleep she'll probably have to feed Audrey, again.

She pulls the bathroom door open, and steps out of the room. She walks through her room. She heads into the hallway, and towards Audrey's room. She stops, before she reaches the bedroom, realizing that the bathroom light is on. She stops in the doorway. She watches, quietly. Fin sits on his knees, in front of the bathtub. He gently washes the shampoo out of the baby's hair. She doesn't squirm, as he wipes the shampoo off her forehead, with a wash cloth. He reaches for the soft, pink baby towel, and lifts her out. He wraps her up, tightly. He stands up, with her. He turns around, and finds her standing in the doorway.

"How long have you been there?"

"Long enough. You know I was going to do that."

"I can do it, just the same as you can," he points out.

She steps aside, so he can carry the baby to her room. He lays her on the changing table. He dries her off, and puts a clean diaper on her. He rubs her down, in baby lotion, and puts her pajamas on her, and brushes her hair. He lifts her off the changing table. Olivia takes the wet towel, and leaves the room. She carries it across the hall, to the washing machine. She throws in the baby's dirty clothes. She dumps in the detergent, and turns it on, finally having enough for a full load. She returns to Audrey's room. Fin pats her.

"I can take her, if you want," she offers.

"Most nights I'm still at work, when you put her to bed. I want to do it. Why don't you take a few minutes to yourself?"

"Ok," she nods, in agreement.

She returns to her bedroom. She grabs the book, she's been trying to finish reading, for three weeks, off her nightstand. She climbs into the bed, on top of the covers, and begins to read.

It doesn't take him long to get her to sleep. He pats her to sleep, in few minutes. He places her in the crib, and puts her flowery purple blanket over her. He goes into the closet, and grabs some clean clothes, for himself. He heads into the bathroom to get his own shower.

When he gets out, he goes into the baby's room, to check on her. She's still sound asleep. He tiptoes down the hallway, and finds that Olivia is passed out, on top of her covers, with the lamp on, and a book, on her chest. He quietly leaves the room, pulling the door closed behind him, most of the way. He heads into the living room, and flips on the TV.

He watches TV, until the eleven o'clock news goes off, at eleven thirty. He turns the TV off, and heads down the hallway. When he reaches Olivia's room, she opens the door. She stands in the doorway. He looks at her.

"What are you doing?" he asks her.

"Going to check on the baby," she insists.

"I just checked on her, five minutes ago, during the last commercial break."

"But," she begins to argue.

"Liv, she's sound asleep."

"It's been three hours."

"She is fine. When I was in there a few minutes ago, I changed her, and put her back to sleep."

"Are you sure?"

"Olivia, if she's going to sleep through the night, let her."


	60. Closer

"You're right," she admits.

He looks at her, "I am right about a lot of things," he reminds her.

"I guess."

"You know you're still in your robe," he points out.

"I fell asleep."

"Which is why you should have put some pajamas on."

She rolls her eyes. She pulls the robe tighter, around her. He reaches up, and pushes the hair off her shoulder.

"You're hair is still wet. You must be cold," he comments.

"You don't have to badger me, I'll put some pajamas on."

"I'm not badgering you."

"You are, but it's ok."

"If you don't mind, I am going to go to bed, now," he announces.

"It's barely eleven thirty."

"I have to go to work in the morning."

"When did you get so old?" she wonders.

"I share a room with a one month old. Every move she makes, I hear."

"You do that, by choice. You are the one who insisted that we move her to her crib to sleep at night."

"Yeah, because you weren't getting any sleep. I would come in here, and find you standing there, just checking to see that she was still breathing."

"I am a little paranoid, so what?"

"You worry, too much. Go to bed."

"Maybe I don't want to," she argues.

He smiles at her. He doesn't say anything. She stands in the doorway, of her room. All of a sudden, she realizes how close he is, to her.

"I am going to go, now," he says, softly.

"Don't," she looks into his eyes.

He stares, back at her, in confusion. He swallows hard, "Liv," he begins.

She cuts him off, "Don't go."

"I don't think..." he tries to reason.

"Don't think," she warns.

"Are you sure about this?"

She feels her heart beating faster. She takes a deep breath. She looks into his eyes. She just nods. He takes a step, closer. She doesn't move. He places his hand, against her jaw line. She moves towards him. He is cognizant not to reach for the back of her head, and touch the scar, they both know is there. His lips finally meet hers. She kisses him, and she doesn't let her mind wonder. She doesn't worry about the baby sleeping, in the other room. She doesn't think about the fact that the last time... she doesn't allow her mind to go there. She only allows herself to be present, in the moment.

He moves slowly, knowing no one has touched her, since that nightmare happened. He stops for a moment, and looks at her. She looks back at him, and subtly shakes her head.

"Don't stop," she whispers.

He doesn't say anything else. He puts everything he knows, up on a shelf. He lets her take the lead. She pulls him towards her. They make it inside the bedroom. She closes the door, behind them, making sure not to slam it. He puts his hand, around her waist, as she pulls on his shirt. He pulls the cinch, around her waist, securing her robe, free. She lets it fall to the floor.

Hours later, he's lying in her bed, next to her, asleep. She sleeps, next to him. He has his arm wrapped around her. The apartment is totally quiet, void for the sound of a clock on the wall, and a ceiling fan.

The noise, coming from the other room, wakes him up. She moves, before he does. It only takes him a split second to recognize what's going on. She shifts, under his arm.

"I'll get her," he yawns, moving his arm.

"I..." she begins to argue.

"I got her," he rolls over. He sits up, and grabs his pajama bottoms off the floor. He pulls them on, and leaves the room.

He makes his way into the kitchen. He yawns as he pulls a bottle out of the fridge. He pours some water into the bottle warmer. He sits the bottle inside, and leaves the kitchen. He lifts the crying baby out of her crib. He slips a pacifier into her mouth. He carries her into the kitchen, and waits for the bottle to heat. He pats her, as they wait.

He checks the temperature of the bottle, as he takes it out. He carries the baby, back to her room. He takes a seat on the bed, as he feeds her. By the time she reaches the end of the bottle, she's sound asleep. He burps her, and changes his diaper. He places her back into her crib, and covers her up.

He makes his way, back down the hallway. He goes into the other bedroom. He climbs into bed, next to Olivia. She yawns, as he pulls the covers over them.

"What time are you planning on getting up, for work?"

"Six thirty, why?"

She looks at the alarm clock, "It's two thirty," she tells him, as she sets the alarm clock.

"Six hours, that is a record, for her."

She sets the alarm, and rolls over, in bed. She faces him. He looks at her, and smiles. He tucks her hair, behind her ear. He kisses her lips.

"Go back to sleep," he whispers.

"I'm awake, now."

"Go back to sleep. I have to get up, in a few hours."

"Four hours," she points out.

"I just barely got to sleep, when she woke up."

She kisses him, to shut him up, and keep him from arguing.

The sound of her own personal alarm clock wakes her up, to the tune of crying. She looks at the clock. It tells her that it's six a.m, time for her day to start. She moves the arm off her, and slithers out of bed. He is so sound asleep, that he doesn't hear the baby crying. She slips some clothes on, and leaves the room.

She heads down the hallway, towards the crying. She scoops the baby out of the crib. Her dark waves of hair go in several different directions. Olivia yawns.

"Morning, Audrey."

The baby looks at her. She smiles.

"How can you be so happy, so early in the morning? Huh?"

The baby just keeps smiling, as Olivia holds her.


	61. Simple Things

He gets showered, and dressed quickly. He finds Olivia in Audrey's room, getting her dressed, for the day. He enters the room, and heads over to the changing table, where she's standing.

"Bye," he kisses her.

"I'll see you later."

He smooches Audrey, on the cheek. "Bye little girl," he turns, to leave the room. He makes it to the doorway, before he makes a realization. He turns around, and looks at her.

"Liv?"

"Huh?"

"You haven't been to the doctor, have you?"

"Me, personally?"

"That's what I am asking."

"No, why?"

"Then you haven't been given the go ahead..." he points out.

"It's a little bit late, to worry about that now, don't you think?"

"I guess."

"You should go, or you're going to be late."

"Ok," he leaves the room.

Audrey sits in her bouncy seat, on the coffee table. Olivia is in sweat pants, and a t-shirt. She sits on the couch, folding a mountain of laundry, while Audrey snoozes. She is surprised, when someone knocks on the door. She gets off the couch, and heads to the door. She looks out the peephole, and pulls the door open.

"Alex, what are you doing here?"

"I brought you lunch. I had a couple of hours, before trial, and I thought that you might enjoy some adult conversation."

"Please, come in," Olivia insists.

"How is it going?"

"I'm ready to come back to work."

"It's only been a month. The standard maternity leave is six weeks."

"I know."

"You're ready to leave her, already?"

"It's not her," Olivia explains, "I love being with her."

"Then why are you ready to go back to work?"

"I'm bored, out of my mind. I have never not worked, especially for a period of time, that is this long. I don't know what to do with myself. She sleeps a lot."

"Isn't that normal?"

"Yes," Olivia takes a seat, at the kitchen table, across from Alex.

"Then, what is the problem?"

"I spend all of my time cleaning, and doing laundry. My house has never been this clean, in my entire life. What else am I supposed to do?"

"Sit on the couch, and relax."

"I can't. I can't just relax."

"Maybe you should join a mommy, and me group," Alex suggests.

"Yeah, right."

"You don't think that you would enjoy that?"

"No."

"Have you found a nanny?"

"Not yet."

"Have you started looking?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because no one is going to measure up to my standards, I already know that."

"I don't know what to tell you."

"Don't tell Fin, but I've been bundling her up, putting her in the stroller, and going outside."

"Why would he care?"

"I've been running, every day."

"Again, why would he care?"

"Because I haven't been to the doctor, to be cleared for activity."

"That is a stupid rule, anyway."

"I agree. But, it doesn't matter. I am still bored out of my mind."

"You can't come back to work, until you find someone to watch her."

"I'll just leave her with Cragen."

"As much, as I actually believe that he honestly wouldn't care, I don't think that you can do that."

"I know. I don't even know how I am going to be able to make things work, when I go back to work."

"What do you mean?"

"She eats eight, or ten times a day."

"Don't all babies?"

"I am her food source."

"Oh, right."

"I guess I will have to figure something out."

"So, can I ask you a personal question."

"I guess."

"Is Fin still staying here?" she wonders.

"Yeah."

"How long is that going to last?"

"I don't know," she shrugs.

"So you're not in a hurry for him to leave?"

"No. He'll get up in the middle of the night, with her, so that I can sleep."

"But, isn't that weird?"

"Not really. Alex, he was front, and center, when I gave birth."

"So is he's staying, indefinitely?"

"What are you asking me?"

"Are you, and he..."

"Are we what?"

"Involved?"

Olivia exhales, "I don't know what we are," she admits.

"I mean over the past few months the two of you have gotten closer. You spend a lot of time together. It is easy for someone to assume..."

Olivia cuts her off, "That something is going on?"

"Exactly."

"I just had a baby," Olivia reminds her.

"A month ago."

"Look, I don't know how to answer you."

"Because?"

"Because, I don't know how I feel about him."


	62. In Front Of You

"We have worked with each other, for more than a decade. He has seen me, at my worst, more than once."

"So, what you're saying, is that he's always there for you?"

"I guess."

"He is."

"At first..." she trails off.

"You didn't feel anything?"

"I couldn't feel anything. I was so caught up, in my own issues, that nothing else mattered."

"And now?"

"Last night, he had Audrey, while I was in the shower. When I got out, I found him in the bathroom, giving her a bath. Do you know how rare that is to find?"

"Fin?"

"I know. It's hard to believe, because on the outside he's so tough."

"He hasn't had an easy life," Alex points out.

"But, he loves her. I never expected that, and I don't think that he did, either."

"He loves her, because he loves you."

"What?" Olivia looks up from her food. She throws Alex a questioning look.

"He loves you."

"What makes you think that?"

"The last time that I was here, it was just the way he looked at you."

"You're kidding, right? Last time you were here I was still in my pajamas, at noon. I hadn't washed my hair in two days, and I was passed out on the couch, with the baby."

"Exactly."

"That doesn't make any sense."

"I don't think he cares what you look like."

"Why do you think that he's in love with me? What would make him love me?"

"He's in love with you, for the person that you are."

"I am a new mom, with a one month old baby, and I'm over forty. Most of the time, I'm a complete and total mess."

"You should be asking him, not me."

"You're right," she puts a bite into her mouth.

"So, do you love him back?" Alex pulls no punches.

Olivia nearly chokes to death, on her bite of salad. She coughs, and sputters. Alex just smiles.

* * *

He gets home, just after five. He's not alone, when he arrives. Someone else follows him through the door. Olivia is in the kitchen, holding the baby, when they come into the apartment. She looks at Fin, in confusion.

"I didn't know that anyone was coming over," she tells him.

"Sorry, it was last minute. Ken called, and asked if he could come over, for dinner."

"I didn't cook anything."

"Olivia, I apologize. I hope that you didn't have anything planned."

"You're kidding me, right? I have no plans, for the foreseeable future."

"I ordered take out," Fin adds.

"Oh."

"May I?" Ken questions.

Olivia nods. She takes the baby off her shoulder. She hands her to Ken.

"Hi, Audrey. It's nice to finally meet you," he smiles.

She smiles at him, and squeals.

"I should have warned you about that," Fin admits.

"It's ok," Ken reassures him, "She's a cutie."

Fin looks at his watch, "I am going to go pick up our food."

"Why didn't you have it delivered?" Olivia questions.

"Cause it is less than a block away, and delivery is extra," he adds.

"Ok."

He leaves the apartment. Ken waits until the door closes, to open his mouth.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Ken, I.." she looks at the baby.

He looks down at the baby, and shakes his head. "Not about her," he adds.

"Ok," she nods.

"Where is this going?"

"Where is what going?"

"Whatever is going on, between you, and my father."

"Look, Ken, no offense, but I don't think that is any of your business."

"It's not. I am just curious."

"Why?"

"Because I've never her seen him happier. I have seen him smile more in the last hour, than I have in the past decade."

"Oh."

"He brought me to your apartment," Ken points out.

"He's been staying here."

"To help you with the baby?"

"Yeah," she nods.

"So are the two of you just friends?"

Olivia shrugs, "I don't know that I am comfortable having this conversation, with you."

"Whatever you say to me, is in confidence."

"Your dad is a good guy."

"I know that, even if it took me a long time to see," he admits.

"And he is an incredible friend," she adds.

"But?"

"There aren't any buts."

"So?"

"I am only starting to see what was in front of me, all along."

"Ok, what does that mean?"

"He isn't going anywhere."

"I know that."

"I am not interested in anyone else. Honestly, amid the chaos that has been my life, for nearly the past year, I wasn't looking for any sort of relationship. I had given up on the thought that there was someone out there, for me."

"I see."

"Obviously, I am wrong sometimes."

"You were wrong."

"I know. The older I get, the more I learn to accept being wrong."


	63. Walls

He knocks on the bedroom door. She's sitting in bed, reading a book, as she feeds the baby.

"You don't have to knock."

"I just wanted to make sure that..."

She cuts him off, "Come in here."

He pushes the door open, and enters the room. He finds that everything is covered up. Olivia, and the baby are covered, with a blanket.

"I just wanted to make sure that you were decent."

"Fin, you're kidding, right? I lost all sense of modesty, a while ago. First a rape kit. Do you know what all that entails? You were there, when she was born. I don't think that I have anything here, that you haven't already seen."

"Probably not," he takes a seat on the edge of the bed, near her legs.

"What is that look about?" she questions.

"I didn't mean to spring dinner on you, tonight," he apologizes.

"It's ok. It was good. He even offered to baby sit," she reminds him.

"Who is going to watch her, when you go back to work?"

"I don't know."

"You're getting stir crazy, in here, aren't you?"

"Yeah, a little."

"I can understand that."

"Do you have any ideas?"

"I talked to my ex-wife, today."

"Ok."

"And, she offered to watch Audrey."

"I need a full time baby-sitter."

"That's what she does. She watches one other kid. She used to have two, but her other one just went to preschool."

"I thought she had another job."

"She works on the weekends," he reveals.

"I don't know."

"It's something to think about."

"That's not why you're here," Olivia realizes.

"No," he shakes his head.

"So, what's on your mind?"

"Look, I want to talk about what happened, last night.""You were right."

"You weren't ready?"

She shakes her head, "That we probably should have waited, until I get an ok."

"I feel like I crossed a line."

She smiles, "That made you feel like you crossed a line?"

"We have been colleagues for a long time."

"Fin, you live here. You might have an apartment, that you pay rent on, but you live here. You have stayed here, every single night, for the last month. The only time you go home, is to get clean clothes."

"You want me to go home?"

She shakes her head, "No, that's not what I'm saying."

"What are you saying?"

"If you crossed a line, it was a long time ago. Somehow the line got blurred."

"I am sorry," he admits.

"For what?"

"Crossing the line."

"You didn't cross it, alone," she reminds him.

"I feel like I took advantage of you, when you were in a vulnerable situation."

"Fin, I am fine. I am not in a vulnerable situation, anymore."

"All of the events of the last year, have..."

She cuts him off, "I see a therapist, three times a week. You know that. I'm not in the same place that I was, even a few months ago. I have faced the facts. I was raped. I have child, who I didn't plan for, who was a product of that rape. Sometimes, things are difficult, but I am ok. _You_ didn't take advantage of me."

"I feel like I did."

"If anything, I have taken advantage of you."

He furrows her brow, "Say what?"

"You moved in with me. You take care of a child, whom you have no obligation to. You get up, in the middle of the night, with her."

"You're not taking advantage of me, I want to do those things."

"Maybe, I wanted those things, too," she points out.

"What?!"

"I want you to be here. I want you..." she trails off.

"You want me to what?"

"You didn't take advantage of me, last night, or ever."

"What does that mean?"

"I am not entirely sure," she admits.

"What are you sure of?"

"That I want you to stay here."

"Ok."

She adjusts her position, and her shirt. She lifts the blanket off her, and lays her on the bed, next to them.

"And, she wants you here, too."

He stares at the little girl, who is passed out, in a milk coma. He scoops her up. He kisses her cheek.

"I'll take her," he says, softly.

She nods.

He's to the baby's room, before anything she's said sinks in. He stands in front of Audrey's crib. He doesn't move. He looks down, at the baby, in his arms. She has a full head of dark hair, and cubby cheeks. Her face reminds him of her mother. Her sweet disposition reminds him, of the person he knows her mother was, before she became a cop, before she knew the harsh realities of a cruel world. He kisses her forehead.

"Audrey, listen, I know that I can't protect you, from everything, but I am going to try. I want you to stay sweet, and innocent, forever. And, as for dating, you're not allowed to do that... until I'm dead. Ok? Or, until your at least thirty. If you want to keep me from having a heart attack, you'll do that for me. Ok? And, don't become a cop. Anything else. A lawyer, as long as your not a defense attorney. You can be a doctor, or a teacher, or a nurse, just not a cop? Ok, princess?" He places her in her crib.


	64. Good To Go

The following week, she finds herself at the doctor's office. She waits, for the doctor to finish the exam. Audrey, sleeps, peacefully in her car seat, on a chair, nearby.

"So?"

"Everything looks good."

"I know that I'm here a week early, but I'm ready to go back to work."

"I am clearing you to resume normal activity."

"Great."

"But, you're a cop, right?"

"Yeah."

"So do me a favor, and take it easy. Don't chase down any perps, or jump off any rooftops, for a while, ok?"

"Ok," she agrees.

She takes off her gloves. She washes her hands. She stops, and looks at the baby, in the car seat.

"What's her name?"

"Audrey."

"She's a pretty little girl."

"Thank you."

When Olivia gets home, she stops at her mailbox, in the lobby. She grabs the mail, and heads up to her apartment.

* * *

When he gets home, he finds dinner on the table. He raises an eyebrow, when he finds Olivia standing in the kitchen, sans baby.

"It's quiet in here, where is the baby?"

"She's not here."

"What do you mean?"

"Ken stopped by, earlier."

"Out of the blue?"

Olivia smiles, "He took her to the park."

"Did you call him?"

"No."

"I don't understand."

"Babies are a great way to pick someone up."

"Oh."

"He's been gone about an hour, and a half. He said he would bring her back around seven. He thought that we might like a couple hours, baby free."

"So, he had ulterior motives?"

"Definitely."

"And, I am guessing, that you did to," he raises an eyebrow, realizing that she's wearing make-up.

"I made dinner."

"I see that. You're not wearing sweat pants," he adds.

"Nope," she shakes her head.

He studies her. Her hair has been washed, and blown dry, and not pulled into a bun, or hair clip. She is wearing make-up. Instead of sweats, and a t-shirt she's wearing a red dress, and heels.

"Damn, girl!"

She pulls the dinner rolls out of the oven. He stands on the other side of the counter, and just looks at her.

"I got something in the mail, today," she reveals.

"Am in trouble for something? Is this some kind of torture tactic? I can look, but I can't touch?"

"Would I do that to you?"

"I wouldn't put it past you," he admits.

"You're not in trouble, have a seat," she points to the chair.

"Ok," he nods, in agreement.

She grabs the piece of paper, off the coffee table. She joins him, at the kitchen table.

"What is it?" he wonders.

"I got Audrey's birth certificate in the mail, today."

"So, you are angry?"I already told you, I'm not angry."

"Can I see it?"

She nods, handing it to him. He takes it from her, and reads it, to himself. He finishes, and then looks back up, at her.

"You know that's fraud," she points out.

"We can have it changed if you want. I think that it's cruel to write none, when it asks to list a father. It creates a complex, in kids. I'm sorry. I knew I should..."

She cuts him off, "Why are you sorry?"

"Like you said, it's fraud."

"You put your name down," she begins.

He cuts her off, "And, I shouldn't have."

"Fin, I am not angry with you. I am glad that you did."

He looks at her, in surprise, "You are?"

"It seems to me, like you're her father."

"Oh."

"But, if you don't want that role..." she begins.

He cuts her off, again, "I do. I want that."

"Then you have nothing to be sorry about."

"Are you sure?"

"When I saw that, today, I cried. For over an hour, I cried. You're right, it gives kids a complex. My birth certificate has none, listed under father. I don't know what possessed you..."

"I love you," he blurts out, before he can stop it.

She smiles, "I know. And," she pauses.

"And?"

"You love my daughter. How could I ever ask for more, out of anyone? You love her, and you don't have to. That is the most amazing thing."

He gets distracted by her dress, "I think that dress is the most amazing thing."

She laughs, "I just want to be happy."

"I know."

"You make me happy."

"That's good enough," he smiles, "That's why you made dinner, we're celebrating?"

"Yes, but that's not good enough," she argues.


	65. Red Dress

"You..."

"I love you, too," she admits, with a smile on her face.

"That smile is enough for me."

"We're not going to get dinner, before it's cold, are we?" she questions.

"Not if you're wearing that dress."

"I can take it off," she offers.

"It would be better, if I did it. But, we can't."

"Why not?"

"You know why."

"I had a doctor's appointment, today," she reveals.

"Oh?"

"I am going back to work, on Monday."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Yes."

"You're going to let Theresa watch the baby?"

"Yep."

"So you were cleared for work?"

"He told me not to run after perps, or jump off any rooftops, for a while."

"And, other activities?"

"He said that I am ok for those, too."

His smile widens. She kicks off her high heels. He slides out of his chair. He goes to the door, and locks it.

* * *

Dinner is still sitting on the table, when there is a knock on the door. He looks at her, she just laughs.

"I'll get it," he tells her, frantically searching for his clothes. He heads for the door, "Where is my shirt?"

"In the hallway," she recalls.

He closes the bedroom door, behind him. He pulls on his shirt, and makes his way to the door. He unlocks it, without checking the peephole. He pulls it open, and finds Ken standing in front of him. He pushes the stroller into the apartment, but he doesn't come in.

"Where is Olivia?"

"In the bathroom," he lies.

"Really?"

"You want to come in?"

"No, there is a dress on the floor, I think that I'll just go home, now. You enjoy the rest of your evening."

"Did everything go ok?"

"Fine. I fed her about an hour ago. She's been asleep for the past half an hour. I changed her right before I fed her, so she should be good, for a little while."

"Thanks."

"Anytime," he smiles, as Fin closes the door. He locks the door, and heads for the stroller. He bends down, and finds that Audrey is sound asleep, inside. He unfastens the harness, and lifts her out. He carries her into the bathroom, and turns on the faucet. He gives her a quick bath, which she barely wakes up for. He carries her to her room, and puts a dry diaper, and some pajamas on her. He places her in the crib, with her blanket. He tucks her in, and leaves the room. He flips out the light, on his way out. He returns to Olivia's room. She isn't in the bed. She isn't in the bedroom, at all.

"Where are you at?" he calls out.

"The shower."

"Oh."

"Do you have the baby?"

"She's asleep, I put her in bed."

"It's only seven o'clock, she'll be up, again, soon."

"Are you sure you want to go back to work, on Monday?"

"Why don't you come in here, and talk to me, where I can hear you?" she hollers.

He pushes the bathroom door open. He steps inside, and closes the door. He closes the lid on the toilet, and has a seat.

"You know today is Friday," he points out.

"I know that."

"Audrey is only five weeks old," he adds.

"I know that, too."

"You aren't worried about leaving her?"

"Of course I am."

"Maybe I just have more anxiety about it, than you do."

"I have plenty of anxiety for the both of us, but I have to go back to work at some point."

"I know. You could take seven more weeks, though."

"Fin, I have scrubbed the same stain on the floor, every single day, for nearly five weeks."

"The dead lady stain?"

"It's never going away, but is going to drive me insane, if I sit in this apartment, day in, and day out, for one more day."

"Ok, as long as you're sure."

"I am."

"I'm hungry," he realizes.

"There is food on the table."

"It's cold."

"We have a microwave."

"What did you make?"

"You were sitting at the table, in front of your plate, you tell me."

"All I saw was you, in a red dress."

"You're such a typical man."

"You know I can watch the baby, in the morning, if you want to go to the gym."

The shower turns off, abruptly. She reaches out the shower door, and grabs a towel. She wraps herself in one towel, and wraps her hair, in another. She steps out of the shower.

"Excuse me? What are you trying to say?"

"No. I didn't mean it like that."

"How did you mean it?" she asks in an accusatory tone.

"I know that you like going to the gym. I know that it helps you relieve stress. If you want to go, I'll watch Audrey."

"Right," she stares at him, with a look that could kill.

He stands up. He looks her in the eye. He puts his hand on her towel, and presses it against her lower back.

"Liv, you're perfect," he reassures her.

"But you want me to hit the gym?" her tone remains angry.

"I don't care if you never hit the gym, again. You look amazing just like you are."

"I had a baby five weeks ago," she reminds him.

He smirks, but doesn't say anything.

"What are you smirking about?"

"Nothing," he shakes his head.

"Tell me."

"I know that you had a baby five weeks ago, I was there. I caught her, as she came out. I know that you're insecure, because, like you said, you had a baby, five weeks ago, but you have no reason to be."


	66. Happiness

"I have no reason to be? Fin, I have every reason to be. I am forty five years old. I had a baby, five weeks ago. I have become a milk factory. Not to mention all of the scars," she rubs her hand.

"You are beautiful," he insists.

"How can you say that?"

"I don't expect perfection. You're only human, everyone has scars."

"Most people don't have this much baggage," she points out.

"I don't care how much baggage you've got, I have my own. None of it matters," he says, sweetly.

"Most people don't have scars, on their knuckles, where they punched a mirror, either."

"I have my own scars, I would never judge you for yours."

"Why are you here?" she wonders.

"In the bathroom? You told me to come in here."

"Here, with me, in this apartment?"

"You told me that you wanted me to be here."

"But why? What do you see in me? Why would you put up with me? I am hormonal, and moody, and some days I'm not nice, at all. Some days..."

He cuts her off, "I love you," he reminds her. "And, I am going to keep saying that, until I convince you. One day you will believe me. I'm not ever going to stop saying it."

"Were you this way, when you were married?"

"I was young, and stupid. I didn't know a good thing, when I had it. I was never around, and when I was, I wasn't anyone that anybody wanted to be around. My marriage didn't work, because my ego was too big to see that what was important was waiting for me at home."

"I don't know if I am ever going to understand how one breath could change everything, in a single instant."

"Tell me the truth," he implores her.

"About, what?"

"You didn't decide that you wanted to keep her, when we were leaving that hospital. You decided that the instant that you laid eyes on her. Didn't you?"

"She was screaming, and she was covered in goo, when you handed her to me. She had a cone head, and a bruise on the side of her face, where she had laid in my birth canal. It wasn't what I pictured. And, yet somehow, I took one look at her, and I didn't want to let her go. I loved her, instantly."

"You carried inside of you, for nine months. How could you not?"

"I don't know how I ever convinced myself that I couldn't."

"It doesn't really matter, does it?"

"Not anymore."

"I am going to leave, so that you can do whatever it is, that you do in here."

"Ok," she agrees, as he leaves the room.

Twenty minutes later, she finally leaves the bathroom, with dry hair, and a moisturized face. She wears fresh pajamas, as she leaves the bedroom. She makes her way down the hall, in bare feet. They smack against the hard wood, as she walks towards Audrey's room. She stops in the doorway, and listens to Fin's voice. She watches him.

He sits in the glider, in the corner of the room. Audrey lays in his arms. She stares at the book, as he reads to her, in a soft, even tone. She looks completely riveted, as he turns the page. He finishes the book, and closes the cover. The baby is still wide awake.

"Look who's awake," he looks at Olivia, in the doorway.

She walks over to them. She looks at the baby, "Hi pretty girl. What are you doing?"

"She's waiting on you."

"I am sure that she is. It's feeding time."

He passes the baby to her. She lifts her out of his arms. She stares at the baby, and smiles.

"Hi my sweet little girl. Are you waiting on mommy? Huh?" she kisses her chubby cheeks, as she carries her into the other room.

An hour later, Audrey is fast asleep. Olivia sits in bed, with her back against the headboard. Her legs are stretched out, right in front of her. The baby lays in her lap. She just watches her, chest rise, and fall, as she sleeps. He snaps a picture, when she's not looking. The flash makes her look up. She doesn't say anything.

"You should have about ten kids," he tells her.

"Ten? I am happy with one."

"You're a great mom. You were meant to be a mother."

"I am happy with one perfect little girl," she admits.

"You're sure?"

"I have to be."

"Are you, or not?"

"I always wanted a little girl. Now I have a little girl. The sweetest little girl, there ever was. She's perfect. I couldn't ask for more."

"You're sure about that? You have a perfect little girl now, it doesn't make you think about having a little boy, too?"

"It doesn't matter. Let's be honest. At my age, that is pretty much out of the realm of possibility. The fact that she is here at all is a miracle, in more ways than one."

"Ok."

"I am perfectly content with her."

"Ok," he relents.

"Why, are you asking?"

"I was just curious."

"Do you want another one?" she questions.

"No," he shakes his head, "I am glad that she's here, but I'm getting old. Too old for diaper duty, and preschool pick up, don't you think?"

"You are pretty much a senior citizen," she teases.

"I have a few years on you."

"We both have a lot of years, on her."

"She'll keep us young," he suggests.

"I certainly hope so. By the time that she graduates high school, I'll nearly be a senior citizen."

"I'll probably be in an old folks home, or a retirement community in Boca."

"A retirement community? I don't ever see that happening."

"You don't want to retire, and move to Florida?"

"I never said that. I just mean, I don't think we're the retirement community type."

"You're right, we'd be busting down doors, and chasing people on our motorized scooters, just for fun. They would kick us out."

"By breakfast time," she adds.

"Definitely."


	67. Days Go By

They drop the baby off to the babysitter, and head into the city. They manage to arrive at the precinct a few minutes early. Olivia shakes her head, as they get off the elevator.

"You have managed to trick my body clock into thinking that it's five minutes later than it actually is."

"Ten," he points out.

"I used to be able to walk in the door, exactly on time."

"We had to leave early this morning, to drop Audrey off," he reminds her.

"I know."

"So how many times have you texted her, so far?"

"Just once," Olivia admits, "You?"

"Twice," he reveals.

She rolls her eyes, and she opens the bottom drawer of her desk. She tosses her purse in it. She takes a seat at her desk. She looks at the desk.

"Someone has been sitting at my desk," she confronts him.

"Well, it wasn't me," he insists.

Amanda joins them, in the squad room. Olivia turns to her. "Who has been sitting at my desk?"

Amanda shrugs, "You might be able to bribe me into telling you."

Olivia reaches into her drawer. She rifles into her purse, and pulls out what she's looking for. She holds it out, to Amanda. Amanda takes the picture from her.

"This is the most recent one?"

"From last week, and she's already outgrown that outfit."

"There has been some rookie cop sitting there, helping with our cases. Luckily he has been reassigned, since you're back."

"I thought that we agreed no one sits at my desk," Olivia furrows her brow.

"_We_ did, but the Captain told him that it was ok."

Don walks into the squad room, "You'll get over it," he tells Olivia.

"Thanks, it's so nice to be back. I feel so welcome here," she scoffs.

"We missed you," he admits, "How is my favorite little munchkin?"

"Growing like a weed," she hands him a picture.

He takes the picture, and shakes his head, "She gets cuter, every time I see her."

"Who?" John wonders, as he joins the conversation.

"Audrey," Fin reveals.

"That is definitely true."

"Did you get the latest picture, of her?" Amanda wonders.

"Yeah, I saw her in person, last night. She told me that I am her favorite," he gloats.

"Whose favorite?" Nick queries, as he joins them, in the squad room.

"Audrey's," Amanda answers.

"That's funny, because when I was there, last night, I seem to recall she made a fist, and was waving it at you, when you were holding her. Clearly, she likes me better," he argues.

"Ok, children, enough. Olivia is back, we can argue over who Audrey's favorite is later. Although there isn't much argument, because clearly she likes me the best. But, I just got a call, we've got a case, so the welcome back party is over. It's back to business as usual, folks."

She finds herself missing her baby, before she even gets to the crime scene. It makes for an incredibly long eight hours.

* * *

The weeks pass, and the baby grows, like a weed. Olivia takes a Friday off, to take her to her three month check up. The nurse does her assessment on the baby, and after a while the doctor comes in.

"So how is Audrey, doing? I see that she's in the ninety ninth percentile for weight, and the ninety eight percentile for height. Any complaints?"

"She was sleeping through the night, at four weeks old, but for the past couple of weeks, she hasn't been. She's been really cranky. That's not like her, at all."

"Have you changed her formula, lately?"

"She doesn't drink formula."

"What's changed?"

"Nothing."

"You haven't changed your eating habits?"

"No," she shakes her head.

"Is there something different about her environment?"

"No. I went back to work seven weeks ago. This didn't start, until about a three weeks ago."

"If she were a formula fed baby, I would tell you to switch her to a different formula. What about stimulants, caffeine, alcohol?"

She cuts him off, "No. I don't drink alcohol, ever. I don't drink any caffeine, anymore, either. No matter how tempting it may be."

"You're a cop, right."

"Yeah," she nods.

"Have you had any increases in stress?"

"I am always stressed, I'm a cop, but these changes didn't occur when I went back to work. It happened afterwards. I just don't know what to do with her, or for her."

"Obviously, you want to continue to breastfeed, so my suggestion is for you to schedule an appointment with your family physician. Have some lab work done, if everything comes back normal, I may consider switching her to formula."

"Ok," she nods.

* * *

She leaves the doctor's office, and calls her OB/GYN. She is surprised, when they tell her they have a cancellation, and that she can be seen, right away. The doctor spends less than five minutes with her, due to some sort of emergency. He leaves the room, and instructs the nurse to draw blood, for lab work.

She heads home. She puts Audrey in her crib, for a nap. Feeling, exhausted, herself, she climbs into her own bed. She closes her eyes, for a brief catnap. She dozes off, in less than ten minutes.

When she wakes up, the first thing that she sees is the clock. It tells her that it's noon, and that she's been asleep for two, and a half hours. She climbs out of bed, in a panic. She races down the hallway, to Audrey's room, concerned that it's so quiet.

She stops at the crib, and looks in. The baby lays on her stomach.

"What are you doing?" she raises her eyebrow.

Audrey smiles, as she lies in her crib, on her stomach, with her arms holding her up, and her head looking around.


	68. Sabotage

She has just lifted the baby out of the crib, when the phone rings. She pulls the phone out of her pocket. She pulls it to her ear, without checking the caller I.D.

"Benson," she answers.

"Miss Benson, this is Kate, from Dr. Harris's office, she would like to see you, this afternoon."

"This afternoon? I was just in there."

"She has a two o'clock available."

"Is there something wrong?"

"She just said that she wanted to schedule you for an exam, and go over your lab work, with you."

"Ok," Olivia agrees, hanging up the phone.

* * *

A couple of hours later, she's sitting in an exam room. Instead of the nurse coming in to see her first, the doctor enters the room. She sits on the exam table, holding Audrey.

"Hi, Dr. Harris, can you tell me what's going on?"

"Why don't you tell me what's been going on with you," she suggests, "I am sorry that I was in such a rush, this morning. I had an emergency."

"Audrey's pediatrician recommended that I make an appointment, with you," she admits.

"What's going on?"

"Audrey has been colicky, the past three weeks. I don't know what's going on."

"How have you been feeling, lately?"

"Ok, I guess?"

"Ok? Any fatigue?"

"I am a cop, and I have a three month old baby, I am always fatigued."

"Any body aches, or breast tenderness."

"Why do you ask? What's going on?"

"Any nausea, or vomiting?"

"No, why?"

"I had the chance to look at your labs."

"Obviously there is something abnormal, or you wouldn't have called me back in here."

"I think that right now, it would be best to transition Audrey to formula."

"Why? What did you find?"

The doctor opens the manila folder. She hands the piece of paper to Olivia. Olivia skims through it.

"It all looks normal to me," Olivia admits.

"Look at the first lab value," the doctor points out to her.

"It's high."

"Yes," the doctor confirms.

Olivia reads the slip of paper carefully. She studies the lab value, "That can't be right," Olivia argues.

"Blood tests are pretty accurate, and that is a pretty high level."

"It's not possible," Olivia argues, "Maybe it's falsely high?"

"It is possible, but very doubtful."

"I know what you're thinking, but you're wrong."

"Have you been sexually active?"

"Yes."

"And did you use protection?"

Olivia doesn't answer.

"Then it's possible," her doctor points out.

"You can't really think that I'm pregnant. Maybe there was some mix up, in the tests."

"I suppose that is not out of the realm of possibility."

"Me being pregnant is. I am forty six."

"Women tend to be exceptionally fertile, after giving birth. That is why we encourage them to use back up methods of birth control."

"I am forty six," Olivia repeats.

"I understand that."

"I'm not pregnant."

"It is easy enough to find out."

Olivia sits up. She places Audrey in her car seat, making sure to fasten her in. The doctor does a pelvic exam first. She then does an ultrasound. Olivia feels her heart beat rise, as the green gel is squirted onto her abdomen. She stares at the ceiling, not wanting to believe that it's possible. The doctor moves the probe around, spreading the gel around.

"Are you ready?"

"Not really, but I guess I don't have a choice."

The doctor turns the monitor on. She studies the picture, on the screen.

"Do you want to look?"

"No," Olivia answers.

* * *

That evening, when Fin gets home from work, he finds Olivia sitting on the couch. She sits there, in silence, with the TV off. He looks at his watch.

"It's just after five, where is Audrey?"

"She is taking a nap," she answers.

"Why do you look so glum?"

"Have a seat," she pats the cushion, next to her.

"Ok," he sits down, "Why do you look so serious?"

"I have had an incredibly long day."

"What did the doctor say about the colic?"

"He told me to make an appointment with my OB/GYN to see if we could figure out what was going on."

"Oh. When is that?"

"It was today."

"What did she say?"

"She recommended that I start her on formula."

He furrows his brow, "Why?"

"I gave her a bottle, an hour ago. She fell asleep, when she was finished. She's been out, since."

"You gave her formula?"

"For the first time."

"Your eyes are red, have you been crying?"

"Maybe."

"What's going on?"

"I had to feed her formula, and..."

"I'm sorry. What did the doctor say, her reasoning was?" he asks, out of curiosity.

"Um," she trails off.

"Are you alright?"

"Will you get me a bottle of water?" she asks.

He nods. He vacates his seat, and goes over to the fridge. He pulls the door open, and pulls out a bottle. He closes the door, and freezes.


	69. When You're Mad

He stares at the picture, on the fridge. It's black, and white. He removes the magnet, and takes it with him, back to the living room. He hands her the bottle of water, and returns to his seat. He says nothing.

"That's for you," she informs him.

He furrows his brow, "I don't understand. Why would you put one of Audrey's sonogram pictures on the fridge?"

"I didn't."

"Someone did," he argues.

"I put the picture there."

"You just said that you didn't. Which is it?"

"Look at the date," she points to the corner of the picture.

His eyes move to the date. He says nothing, he just turns, and looks at her.

"Is this some kind of joke?"

She shakes her head, on the verge of tears, "I wish."

"Wait, so you're telling me that..."

"Yeah," she nods, sniffling, in attempt to keep her tears at bay.

"It's ok," he reassures her.

"Ok?! Fin, I'm pregnant. I have a three month old baby, in the other room, and I am pregnant!" she rants.

"We'll figure it out."

"Figure it out? It's already happened. It's too late to figure it out, now."

"What do you want me to say? I'm sorry?"

"No."

"Then what?"

She shrugs, "I don't know what I want you to say. I don't even know what to say, myself. I have a three month old, and I am seven to eight weeks pregnant."

"Seven, or eight weeks?"

"Yes," she confirms.

"I guess that means you're stuck with me."

She looks at him, and smiles. "It's not fair. I want to be angry with you."

He smiles back at her, "Too bad."

"This is unbelievable, you know."

"I know."

"I am still angry with you."

"Angry with me?"

"You did this. You got me pregnant."

"I am not solely to blame here. As I recall you were there, too," he reminds her.

"I don't know if I can do this."

"Maybe you'll feel differently, now that we've solved the problem that was causing her colic."

"One problem solved, and so many questions arise."

"You should have called me, I would have come to your appointment."

"I thought the nurse was going to have to scrape me off the floor."

"It could be worse, right?"

"How?" she raises an eyebrow.

He shrugs "We..."

She cuts him off, "Look at the picture again, before you say that it could be worse," she insists.

He takes another look at the picture, and then he looks at her.

"What am I looking for?"

"Does something seem off, to you?"

"I don't know what I'm supposed to be looking for. I'm not really an expert on ultrasound photos."

"It doesn't take an expert," she argues, "Just look at the picture, and tell me what you see."

"A couple of blobs."

"Exactly."

"Exactly, what?"

"It can't be any worse," she tells him.

"What do you mean?"

"I will spell it out for you."

"Please," he begs.

"There is a three month old baby, in the other room. I am seven, to eight weeks pregnant, which means that before she's a year old, she won't be the baby, anymore. Before her first birthday, those blobs, that you see, are going to be born. Then instead of Audrey, and a couple of blobs, we'll have Audrey, and a couple of newborns."

"A couple?"

"Yes," she nods, "A couple."

"As in, more than one?"

"Yes. There are two of them," she reveals.

"Are you sure?"

"The picture is worth a thousand words."

"Twins?"

She nods, in confirmation, feeling numb.

"Oops."

"Oops?" she raises an eyebrow, "That is all that you have to say?"

"I told you we should wait," he reminds her, "You never listen to me."

"I know."

"You didn't listen."

"How could this have happened? I am not ready for this."

"We will get through it, together. I promise."

"I am going to lose my mind."

"It is going to be ok," he promises her, although he's not entirely sure.

"That is easy for you to say, you're not the one who is pregnant, with twins."

A smiles crawls across his face. She sneers at him. "How can you be smiling?"

"You're right, this is all my fault."

She furrows her brow. "You planned this?"

He shakes his head, "I may have prayed for you to have a second chance."

"At what?"

"Being pregnant. I thought you deserved to have a good experience."

"Why would you ask for that?"

"I don't know."

"Unbelievable."

The smile stays on his face.

"Stop smiling," she begs.

"I can't. You're having my babies. Why wouldn't I want to smile about that?"


End file.
